Pasithea's Messenger
by Water-smurf
Summary: The child must bear the sins of the parents. The parents must pay for their absence, and the price may go higher than they thought possible. Darkness is nursed best with hate.
1. Chapter 1

Tiasal stretched, sitting down on the shore of a lake she found in the forest edging her field. Her legs dangled lazily in the water, her black pants hiked up to her knees and her shirt thrown carelessly to the side. It was a warm day and she disliked wearing clothes at all in her wide-open and empty home. When she was younger, she had run around without any clothes at all. (A gentle lecture from Aarindarius along with a horrible case of poison ivy in an awkward place took care of _that_ quickly.) But, even then, she could really only be convinced to keep her undergarments on, and maybe her pants if she doesn't feel like getting that 'raised eyebrow' look from Aarindarius, Haley, or any of the rest of her family (minus Elan, of course. Half the time, he was running around naked too, only he shouted something about invisibility. Tiasal never really understood that).

_Tiasal let out a happy whoop, sprinting towards a pond and diving in, coming up to make a big splash in a mere moment. The water and various creatures within it brushed against her bare skin, and she couldn't help but savor the feeling._

_She laughed and climbed out of the water again, loving the feel of sunlight on her completely naked body, and she ran back a few feet, turning to run and jump again. _

_Roy and Belkar both leaned on a tree and watched, each with one eyebrow raised._

"_Well, at least we know for sure what her sex is," Belkar muttered. "The jury's still out on Aarindarius, and even after the whole 'giving birth' thing, I'm _still_ wondering about the elf. And the elf's ex-wife-or-husband. And the elf's other kids."_

"_Belkar, let it go." The girl jumped into the water again, making as big a splash she could. "You know, we should probably make her put some clothes on before she catches a cold or something."_

_Belkar shrugged, holding up his hands. "Hey, I'm only here because Haley told me to make sure she doesn't drown and she'd put me through hell if I wasn't around and something happened." He crossed his arms again. "I'm not here to get her dressed. Besides, she'd just take it all off again anyway." _

"_You're probably right."_

_Tiasal crawled out of the water and jumped in again._

The girl giggled softly at the memory, leaning back and lounging on the grass. Her skin was definitely getting darker. It now was the color of grass—not the dark emerald of the only other goblin she had ever seen, but darker than mint. The two spots on her chest were emerald green. Haley and Durkon had told her that the spots had a name, but she kept on forgetting what it was. She didn't care too much—they had never told her that the spots were important, so she figured that they were birthmarks. She just liked their color.

She giggled softly, remembering her teacher's reaction when she first went to his tower missing clothing. Aarindarius used to be shocked when he saw her without her shirt or pants, especially when she came to her lessons like that, but now he simply rolled his eyes and gave her a spare robe he'd taken to keeping magically tucked away in a pouch he had at his hip. Aunt Haley was even more resigned to it. She usually just told her that she'd get sick and that she should put on a robe, yet never made sure she did. Whenever Uncle Belkar saw this, he always laughed and said that her real parents would be way stricter about that.

Would they be? Haley seemed to agree with Belkar.

"_Tiasal! Is it too much to ask for you to put on at least a _shirt_ when your uncles or teacher are around?"_

_The little girl shrugged her bare shoulders, ruffling the loose beige skirt that she had been convinced to wear and jumping up on the couch, snuggling up against the halfling slouched there. Belkar stiffened a little at the contact, something he always did, then he gave a nonchalant shrug and lightly rested a hand on a green arm. _

_Haley sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I hate being the strict one."_

_Belkar glanced up at the rogue, smirking and laughter growing in his stomach. "You call shouting at her and then letting her cuddle up to a Chaotic Evil halfling 'strict'?" He patted the child's shoulder. "Vaarsuvius would've dragged her upstairs and forced her into three layers by now. I dunno about Reddy, but he would've probably done the same thing." He looked down at Tiasal and smirked. "Face it, kid: you've lucked out." _

"_I wouldn't call not having her parents 'lucking out.'"_

"_But will you admit to the fact that the elf would have snapped her into shape?"_

"_Of course."_

Tiasal absently ran a lock of soft purple hair through her fingers. The person she had gotten this from was the person that she may never meet. Vaarsuvius had probably taken care of her hair better than her daughter. The child's hair was long, down to the waist, ragged, and tangled with various sticks and leaves constantly. It was a frightfully painful ordeal to brush it. The strands were too fine, the hair too thick—how was anyone supposed to live life and be able to keep it neat at the same time?

Maybe, when she became a powerful mage, Tiasal could make a spell that would keep her hair from tangling. That would be useful.

She let her hand drop from her hair. If she thought really hard, she could almost imagine (remember? But that was impossible) what her mother smelled like. Flowers. Honey. Wine. Mother. She could sometimes imagine what it was like to be held to her father's chest. Cold skin. Hard chain mail. Warmth and a sense of safety.

Her stomach got a small hollow feeling.

Tiasal thought of her family and the feeling faded. She didn't have too much to complain about. Her aunt and uncles weren't perfect, but they loved and cared about her. Aarindarius was always there, and he loved and cared about her too. Blackwing was always around, clucking like a hen over her health habits and telling her to take better care of herself, and generally acting like the personification of common sense. Abram loved her like a little sister and was much more consistent than her real brothers. Octavius and Terentius, when they loved her, were wonderfully loving and kind. When they hated her, well, at least she learned how to fight better. And Inkyrius was always treating her kindly despite her origins.

And she was happy like this. She was happy with her life. She was a happy little girl.

Wasn't she?

She slowly drifted off to sleep under the warm sun.

---

"_Little one, you are distracted." _

_Tiasal looked up, blinking in surprise, and Aarindarius cocked his head, slowly closing the book of cantrips he was going over with the child. He sidled close, gently wrapping his arm around the girl's shoulders and allowing her to lean against his side and snuggle close. He had noticed that she was much more tactile than her mother had been at that age, and it was his way of getting her to respond. It was difficult to communicate well with one who spoke so little, so he really needed every trick he could get. _

"_Is there something bothering you?"_

_The little girl shrugged._

"_Now you know that is not being forthcoming." Aarindarius gently ran his fingers through the girl's tangled hair, smiling fondly. "Are you troubled by something?"_

_She remained silent for a while. "Did you ever meet my father?"_

_The wizard jerked slightly in surprise, but he quickly tried to reign in his reaction. He had been trying to coax the girl to speak for years with varied results. He wasn't going to discourage it now. _

"_I never did, I fear. I hope to meet him one day—you and your mother mean very much to me and I would like to see who has grown so attached to the people I care for."_

_The girl was quiet again, one eyebrow up slightly in skepticism. "You think that Mommy and Daddy will come back?"_

_Aarindarius looked down at the girl, noting that this was probably the longest conversation she had carried in years and tenderly running his fingers through her hair again. Her voice made its lack of use noticeable. It was raspy and quiet, though it could be pretty to listen to if it were only worked a little more._

"_Yes, I do." He hugged her a little closer with one arm, noting that a purr was rising in the little girl's throat. An instinctive response to something? He would need to research goblin biology a little more. "The Order is nothing if not persistent, and your mother is nothing if not stubborn, and I cannot imagine her ever choosing a mate that is not every bit as stubborn as her. Perhaps it shall not be soon—the lich seems rather elusive and persistent as well—but I have every belief that it will happen."_

_Tiasal nodded, tentatively snuggling even closer to the wizard. "Do you know if Daddy had any brothers?"_

_Aarindarius cocked his head, then slowly shook it. "I am afraid I do not know. Goblins traditionally have large families, so I suppose that he would."_

_The girl nodded slowly. _

"_Why do you ask, dear one?"_

_She just smiled vaguely. "I've got an uncle." And she left it at that._

---

"Wake up! Hurry!"

Tiasal snapped awake with a surprised shout, quickly scrambling to get on her knees and pulling her pruned feet out of the water. It was cold. The sun was gone. The moon was out. Why hadn't anyone come to get her? She knew that Elan and Aarindarius were the only adults not on the adventure to find her mommy and daddy, but Aarindarius was usually so strict about bedtimes…

"Tiasal, you have to be alert right now!"

She looked up in confusion to see the goblin she only knew as Uncle. One gold eye glowed in the night, his face tight with worry. The girl swallowed, nodding quickly. The last time she had seen him, he had saved her life. She didn't doubt his word now.

"Someone who will hurt you is nearby. You need to get back home and warn your family."

Tiasal frowned blankly. The mere idea of someone trying to hurt her was incomprehensible. Only people in the past or in stories tried to hurt other people. She was always safe in the field.

The adult goblin made hurried gestures with his hands, muttering softly under his breath. "Of all the times to not be able to touch anyone… Run!" He looked over her, eye widening. "NOW!"

Tiasal jerked and turned to do as the goblin said, but a hand on her arms stopped her in her tracks.

Uncle was gone.

"What is this?"

Tiasal was roughly spun around, cold hands clutching her shoulders, and she was suddenly staring at a tall woman, younger than her Aunt Haley but obviously an adult, with lank and loose black hair and pale skin. Her eyes were disturbing to look at. One was dark blue and the other was light blue. "A half-breed?"

The girl cocked her head curiously, wondering at the language. Inkyrius had admonished Octavius for calling her a half-breed once. She had been told that it was insulting. Why was this woman insulting her? And why had Uncle told her to run away?

"Purple hair? Half-elf, half-goblin? Next to the Order's commune?" The woman smirked, the look ugly on her black lips, and she gently stroked the girl's cheek. The girl twitched a little to avoid the contact. Instinct was niggling in the back of Tiasal's mind. There was something odd with this woman. "Now where have I seen a goblin/purple-haired elf couple before?"

Tiasal swallowed, violet eyes wide.

The woman slowly started to hitch, rickety laughter beginning in her stomach and rising to her chest, her mouth curled up on the ends.

Was this how most humans were? Tiasal had to admit that she didn't have a lot of experience with this. The only person she had met outside of her 'family' that wasn't a friend of someone she knew was Uncle. This woman was a complete stranger from Outside. She had to admit to being curious.

Maybe her behavior was normal Outside?

"I always thought that that soft fool was lying through his teeth." The woman slowly stroked the girl's face, hand latched firmly on her shoulder. Her eyes flashed out of sync with each other, creating a weird lighting effect, and her hands glowed softly. "The dead girl who should have never been born is alive after all."

Tiasal's instinct had been tripped. For the first time in her life, she was afraid of another living, breathing being.

What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to do when she was afraid of a person? She knew how to fight someone who would pick her up and bring her to a cleric afterwards. She didn't know how to fight or flee a dangerous stranger.

"I think that you should come with me."

"Aarindarius… Elan… Abram…"

Tiasal's small voice was just a croak. A quiet murmur to people who couldn't possibly hear her. The woman smirked, the strokes on the little girl's face becoming harder. "They can't help you now. I made sure of it."

What? How could she…

No.

No.

No no no no no no no no no!

No! Aarindarius! Uncle Elan! Abram! They couldn't be _dead!_ NO!

Tiasal let out a shriek and jerked back, turning to run to the forest. "AARINDARIUS! UNCLE ELAN! ABRAM!"

The woman grabbed her waist-length hair, fingers finding purchase in the tangles, and ripped her back. The girl shouted in pain, fear exploding inside and ricocheting off of the steady wall of anger that she had coated herself with. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Something inside of her was screaming. She had to get back. She had to get back.

She twisted and bit the woman's arm, sinking her sharpened and elongated tusks deep in the human's flesh.

The taste of blood erupted in her mouth. The woman let out a shrill scream.

"YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

Something exploded from the woman's hands and pain ripped through the girl's very being, darkness coming over and destroying everything.

---

_Sometimes, if she prayed really hard, Uncle would come to see her even if she wasn't dying._

_She never really had a lot of piety for the Dark One _or_ the elven gods, but she supposed that the Dark One was willing to overlook that in regards to her prayers because of her father. _

_Uncle was really the only other goblin she had met. She wanted to meet more. Everyone was rather vague about why she was never taken out of their safe field, usually saying something along the lines of 'people are stupid about species.' She didn't understand it and suspected them of lying. _

_But Uncle was sometimes just slightly more specific. He would say that humanoids and goblinoids didn't get along very well and people might be mean to her because of her ancestry. She also suspected him of lying, but it was less of a lie than the ones the others told, so she just stopped asking questions. _

_He didn't seem to disapprove of her existence, though. She had never seen him look at her with disappointment and regret when he thought she wasn't looking. He had never has whispered conversations with others when he thought she couldn't hear about how foolish her parents had been. The only odd thing about him was that he never touched her. That was a little sad, and he seemed to want to numerous times, so she supposed that he simply couldn't do it. _

_For some odd reason, he never talked about her father. He talked a little about her mother—he often said that she had been good for her father and had helped him 'get his priorities straight' and 'smooth out the edges'—but he never talked about his brother._

_She always filed that fact under things that implied ill of her father. _

A/N

This is a story that's not necessarily canon to Curse of Phobetor and In the Arms of Morpheus, but it is canon to Hypnos's Tragedy. I wrote this chapter a while back, but I'm trying to put everything on FF, so this is going up.


	2. Chapter 2

_"That cheeky little bastard lied to me."_

_"I told you, didn't I?"_

_"Shut up, Necromancer chick. I guess it doesn't matter anymore."_

_"What are you planning?"_

_"Something fun. I've been bored."_

"New one."

"Small."

"Green."

"Taken?"

"He likes her."

"Not allowed to touch her."

"Wants it more."

"Do it anyway."

"So small."

"Won't survive."

"Nope."

"Won't survive."

_"Tiasal, please wake up… you need to escape…"_

"Hey."

Tiasal jerked awake, a headache throbbing against her temple. The walls were made of hard stone, sucking out all the heat around it, as was the floor. The only light came from the giant window she was leaning against. Moonbeams fell on the ground, lighting up the faces of several people discreetly staring at her.

Her arm hurt.

The girl shook her head and lightly slapped herself to make sure she was awake, trying to get reoriented.

A human—she looked like she was ten—slowly walked up and stared down at her, gray eyes calculating. Her belly was swollen and round and her chest had two little bulges barely contained by her new-looking white shirt. Her blond hair was tied in two braids, both resting on her shoulders, and her white skirt swished against her pale ankles, giving her a weirdly fey appearance in the light.

"You are new here."

Tiasal stared up at the girl blankly, cocking her head curiously. She nodded tentatively, immediately trying to take stock of the situation.

"Okay." The girl pointed to herself. "My name is Snow." She then pointed to Tiasal. "I don't care what you used to be called. You're now Clash. You'll respond to that name or you'll get in trouble."

Tiasal blinked in confusion, no small amount of indignation gathering in her stomach.

"You see this?" Snow patted her swollen belly. "This means that I'm in charge and you're going to listen to me. Until you get like this, you'll listen to all the girls who have."

She was supposed to listen to the girls because they were fat? What? None of this made sense! It was going too fast!

"You're not going to touch any of the kids here and they won't touch you. The only ones who're allowed to touch any of us are Master, Lord Xykon, and Ms. Tsukiko. No affection, no smiles, no anything."

Tiasal blinked again, trying to comprehend what was going on. Xykon? Tsukiko? She knew those people!

"No speaking unless spoken to. No resistance if any of the adults tell you to do something. No one wants to hear where you came from or who you were. You don't want to hear that from anyone else. You've started a new life and you can forget everything from before."

Xykon?! She was captured by Xykon?!

Her parents.

That meant that her parents were near.

Snow turned around at the rows of children—both genders and mostly pure humanoid—and snapped her fingers. "Evening chores. Be back here in an hour. Turtle, Master wants you. Report to him after chores."

The boy being addressed nodded, frowning tightly, before standing up with the rest of the children. Everyone filed out slowly from the room, two neat lines, one made of boys and one of girls. Snow turned around again, putting her hands on her hips and looking down at Tiasal.

"Clash, you're going to be cleaning out the torture room. You'll find the rags you need behind the door there. You'll notice that you had a magic stone put under your skin—it'll show you where you need to go.

Tiasal blinked, quickly looking down at her arm where it hurt. There was a bulge where her flesh was stretched over a foreign object. And that object was glowing hard enough to show an arrow pointing towards the door through her skin.

She had a strong urge to rip it out.

"Move or you'll get punished." Snow slowly waddled to one of the few beds in the stone room. There were only eight—the rest were just blankets and pillows on the ground.

Tiasal looked down at her arm, tentatively poking the bulge in her skin. There was definitely a stone under there. And it hurt to touch it.

She jerked her hand back when her arm flared with pain.

"Clash! Get moving!"

Tiasal looked up, staring blankly at Snow. "My name isn't Clash."

The green girl nodded at the human, soothing the nursed indignation within, and walked out of the room, feet and chest still as bare as when she had been knocked out.

She came out into a weird stone common room. There was a barren rug on the ground, bloodstains rubbed in, with a simple wooden table and an armchair. There was a door across from the one Tiasal had come out of and one adjacent to it.

She shrugged and picked the adjacent one.

There was a stone hallway with torches on the walls. The traditional setting for one of Uncle Elan's melodramatic stories.

Tiasal prodded the stone under her skin again, wincing in pain and starting off in a random direction down the hall. Where was she? What was going on? The last she remembered, that weird woman had knocked her unconscious.

Had Aarindarius, Uncle Elan, and Abram really…?

No. They hadn't. The weird woman probably had just knocked them unconscious too. She hoped that they were still safely in the field.

_"One of these days, you will learn, Tiasal," Aarindarius sighed, smiling fondly and reaching up to pluck the stuck girl from the tree. "You should not leave your uncle like that. Elan was worried sick about you."_

_Tiasal smiled sheepishly, ears twitching. _

_Aarindarius lovingly pulled sticks from her hair, careful to not hurt her, and cradled her close. "You are an active young elf, aren't you?" He brushed his lips lightly against her temple. "Well, you are only young once. Let us take you back to be cleaned up." _

Her family hadn't died.

She ran her fingers along the walls, trying to find an exit. If she got out, then she could find her family and tell them where Xykon was. Her ears twitched wildly. She had no intention of staying here longer than she had to.

She found a door—finally!—at the end of the hall and she pushed it open gratefully, only to regret it a moment later.

A lich sat on one of two armchairs in front of a fire, staring into it with his skull propped up on a fisted phalange. Robes hung over his frame, wrapped tightly around nothing but bones, and a simple silver necklace with three black gems placed on it gleamed in the flickering light.

Tiasal knew the significance of those gems.

She knew who the lich was.

The lich slowly looked up from the fire, red jewels fixed in his eye sockets glowing softly. "I didn't think I'd see _you_ so soon."

Tiasal froze up, swallowing hard and narrowing her eyes warily.

"You'd think that that cleric freak would have more control over his servant kids." The lich slowly stood up. "But Reddy and his whore always _did_ have an annoying tendency to not do what they were told, so I guess that's genetic."

The girl's eyes remained narrowed and she slowly edged towards the door.

"You're funny when you're scared." The lich's face didn't move, but he seemed to be smirking. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Go on if you want. The cleric freak is probably going to get all angry if you don't do whatever he tells those servant kids of his to do." He made a small dismissive motion and sat back on his armchair, staring at the fire.

…Now Tiasal was curious.

The girl tentatively edged along the wall, her ears so tense that they quivered, her eyes staying narrow and sharp. She couldn't move her gaze from the black sapphires flashing in the light. They looked so innocent. So irrelevant.

Her parents were in there.

"Didn't your mother teach you that it was rude to stare?"

The lich looked back up at the girl, mouth frozen in a grin. "Well, I guess not since I killed her and all. Still, you should have learned that by now."

Tiasal stayed silent.

"If you're going to stay here, at least sit down so I don't have to twist to look at you."

The girl hesitated, unsure, then tentatively crept to the armchair adjacent to the lich, having to climb to sit down properly on the soft but worn red seat.

"You're quiet. Like, insanely quiet. Reddy talked a lot—I usually tuned him out because it was always about strategy or something equally nerdy—but that whore of his just never shut up."

Tiasal wasn't sure how she should react to this. On one hand, she was getting a new and obviously candid perspective on her parents, but on the other hand, she still didn't know how truthful this was and it was needlessly critical.

Her ears twitched and she leaned forward a little.

"Got your attention?" The lich leaned back, smirking at the fire, the gems in his eyes glowing and the sapphires at his neck flickering. "Personally, I think you should be happy that I've swept them up for you. Reddy isn't exactly father material and his whore would've probably dumped you in the nearest trashcan faster than a teen mom on prom night."

She cocked her head, eyebrow raised skeptically.

"Don't believe me?" The lich let out a deep chuckle from inside its hollow ribcage. "I didn't expect you to. You've probably been fed the same 'they were perfect angels' crap your whole life. What can you do? You haven't met them. All you have is what everyone else says."

Tiasal shifted, eyes fixed on the lich's face, gaze tracing the macabre crevices of the bare bone. The shadows from the fire threw them into sharp relief. Fear closed up the girl's throat and tightened her chest, but curiosity and desire kept her rooted where she was.

"They were total pricks. Both of them." The lich leaned back a little further, his bones creaking with the movement. "The purple-haired whore? Snobby and arrogant as hell. She made a deal with fiends. Did anyone tell you that?"

No. No one had.

"Yeah. It was a deal for ultimate power." Another weird hollow chuckle in the lich's ribcage. "Didn't work out so well for her. She thought she could beat _me!_ Heh. I should have killed her, but of course, Reddy started pulling the 'we need information on the gates!' card and convinced me to keep her as a prisoner. You know, if I had killed her, she and Reddy would have never started their weird thing together." The lich's gem eyes slowly fixed on Tiasal. "And you would have never existed. Probably best for all involved."

Her ears twitched, trying to hide their drooping.

"But I guess I'm not supposed to say that to half-breed bastards." The lich looked back at the fire. "You were only born, what, a year and a couple months after those two met? They were enemies. The whore was too thin and power-hungry to deal with it. Reddy was all focused on the Plan for his god and had already picked his Plan over his family. You had two half-wit parents who didn't love each other or you. The whore would have dumped you on someone's doorstep and Reddy would have killed you for me just like he did with his brother."

Tiasal's ears stilled. She stopped moving.

"Oh, no one told you about that either? I guess they wouldn't know." The lich started to chuckle again. "Funny story. You see, Reddy and his brother, Right-Eye, were the ones who got me going on this whole 'world domination' shtick, and after a bit, Right-Eye figured that he preferred raising a family over helping Reddy out with this whole 'equality for goblins' thing. And he tried to kill me. Reddy's loyalty to me was stronger than his love for his brother, so he killed him first." The lich kept staring with red lights. "He would have done it to you too."

The girl was silent.

The lich casually undid his necklace, holding it out and letting the firelight gleam against the gems. "Here. Try this on."

His phalanges were cold against her bare skin as he slowly slipped the chain around her neck. The jewelry was heavy on her chest, almost crushing it, and it felt like it was made of frost, making her start to shiver. She could feel tangible electricity from the stones. It hurt. There was loneliness, fear, regret, anger, and in the middle stone, there was peace and love and helplessness. The feelings were pulling at her, clawing and trying to convince her to give into release. Her head started getting dizzy. Her body started to tremble. Someone was reaching further and further…

She sharply took the jewelry off. The lich cocked his head, obviously surprised, but there was a weird gleam in his eyes hinting at knowledge he wasn't sharing. "That's not the reaction I was expecting."

"It hurts. The stones hurt."

The lich's head remained cocked, but he slowly took the necklace back. "They shouldn't do that to you." He shrugged, smirking a little as if he knew a secret that she didn't, and put the necklace back on. The stones flashed in the light. "What's your name?"

Tiasal looked up at him blankly.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

The girl cocked her head, violet eyes fixed on red. "Tiasal."

"Heh. Elven. I'm surprised Reddy went with that." The lich chuckled lowly. "You're going to suffer your whole life if you leave this place. People will hate you, call you a rape-baby and a savage, because of the fact that your mom had pointy ears and your dad was green. And Reddy always hated anything that wasn't pure goblin. A self-proclaimed speciesist. He convinced himself that he had made exceptions, but he never did. You could see it in the way he withdrew, the way he'd always be at home with goblins and all tense and combative around humanoids and anyone with a drop of humanoid blood in them. He hated me. He hated the Necromancer chick. He hated the elf." The lich leaned back, his eyes glowing darkly, and somewhere in them, Tiasal could see the truth. "He'll always hate you."

The little girl was very quiet.

"Get to wherever you're supposed to and do what the crazy cleric tells you to. I doubt you'll want to be punished."

Tiasal stood up and scurried out of the room, wiping her eyes so no one would know that she was crying.


	3. Chapter 3

Tiasal started back to the place she had woken up in, her face splashed gently with cold water and carefully freed of any proof of what she had been doing for the past hour. She was starting to get cold with her lack of shirt or shoes. She didn't have goose bumps—elves were incapable of them and she seemed to take after her mother—but she had a feeling that she would have had them if she could.

She pushed open the door to the weird little common room that led to the room with all the children's beds.

It wasn't empty.

Children, mostly humanoid and all prepubescent, stood straight at the walls, every pair of eyes fixed on her. A weird bundle of brown cloth shifted on the only armchair in the room. It took a moment for Tiasal to realize that it was a person.

The bundle uncurled, looking more and more like a man. He had dark circles under his gray eyes and his skin was pasty, gray hair falling past his ears. He was human. A cleric clothed in a simple brown shirt and brown pants held up by a black belt.

"I checked the torture chamber. You did not clean it, Clash."

Tiasal shrugged, running a hand through her tangled hair, pulling an errant leaf out of it. She had never had any intention of cleaning this place. And she wasn't going to do anything for someone who called her 'Clash.'

"And you're late."

She crossed her arms and waited patiently for the man to make his point.

"Take off your pants."

The little girl blinked.

"Take them off." The man stood up from his armchair, his legs slightly rickety under him, and he slipped off his belt, doubling it over and rapping it against his palm.

She stared at him blankly, not understanding what was happening. She didn't want to take the last of her clothes off. Something in her told her not to.

The man made a small gesture to the children. A blue-haired elf girl and a broad-shouldered dwarf boy both came forward, grabbing her shoulders tightly.

Tiasal jerked, twisting wildly, but the elf and the dwarf were bigger and stronger than her. Both of them dragged her to the table, forcing her to bend over on it. The elf leaned forward, grabbing an opportunity to speak, lips almost brushing Tiasal's earlobe.

"You're a disgrace to your elven heritage, goblin bastard. Enjoy this—it's all you deserve."

Tiasal jerked a little, catching only a glimpse of the elf girl's furious orange eyes. There was nothing but hate in them, bubbling and flowing over like molten rock. It wasn't hatred for what she had done. It was hatred for what she was.

The green girl's eyes widened in surprise. For the first time, she had an inkling of why her family had tucked her away from the world.

She was jolted out of this train of thought when the elf girl pulled down her pants and undergarments, leaving her completely bare. She gave a surprised squeal and tried to squirm away, and then something hit her.

It was sudden and pain ripped through her right to her bones. She let out a surprised and agonized howl and the thing came back down, right on the raw skin. It hurt even more to have it right there, before the pain from the last lash had ended. She arched, held down by the other children, and stars exploded in her eyes. Another blow came down, but she clenched her teeth against crying out, tusks and canines breaking into her skin and making her bleed.

Another blow. Another. Another.

Despite her best efforts, a tear squeezed out of her shut eyes.

Another. Another.

She lost count of how many were coming. She could feel herself bleeding. Each time she was hit, more stars burst in her sight, whether or not her eyes were open. She refused to make a sound.

The lashes receded. The elf girl and dwarf boy let her go.

Her knees buckled under her, but she grabbed the edge of the table, forcing herself to stay standing, and she glared at all the people she could see. The children stared back, emotionless, and the blue-haired elf girl's eyes stayed molten, stayed hateful.

"I hope that a lesson was learned here." The man slide his belt back, clasping it, and gently stroked Tiasal's shoulders, sending shivers down her spine. "Do as you're told and you will be happy. If you don't, then you won't."

His lips brushed the base of her neck. Something deeply instinctive made her squirm away, staring at him warily. He just smiled tightly at her. "I am Master." He looked at the children at the walls. "Bring her clothes. Get her dressed. Then it will be time to go to bed. Turtle, I'd like to see you."

A human boy stepped out of the crowd and Tiasal was swept away by children. She was suddenly clothed in rough but simple brown shirt and pants. The raw pain stuck to her like burrs, needling her and laughing at the fact that she wanted to cry but, for her pride's sake, couldn't.

Something was choking her when the hatefully blank children threw her to the ground and she had to roll on her belly to keep the cold stone from touching the pain. Her temples pounded with fury. She propped herself up on her fists, nails digging deep into her flesh and her muscles in knots. Anger tasted hot on her tongue, filling up her mouth and heating up her face. Confusion mixed in, coupled with despair.

Everyone except for the boy who had gone with the cleric settled in their blankets, only girls with swollen bellies getting the bed. No one paid mind to the green girl on the floor.

She wanted to know what was happening. She wanted to know what was real. She wanted to know the damn truth and she wanted to get out!

Rage and helplessness tightened around her throat and her eyes filmed over with yellow.

---

There was the sound of heartbroken sobbing. Tiasal sat up, strangely devoid of the pain that had kept her from sitting before, and saw that she was in a wood brown hallway. There was an uncomfortable tingling behind her eyes, a feeling of cold running through her veins, but she didn't understand why. She tentatively stood up, walking towards the sound of crying.

"Mom, you haven't been keeping track of this?"

The crying person wailed from behind the wall. "I stopped watching when I saw one of my sons kill the other!"

Tiasal's ears perked and she slowly crept to the end of the corridor, pushing the door open only a crack and peeking inside.

Goblins. A lot of them. A woman with white hair piled on her head was sitting at a round kitchen table, her face in her hands and her shoulders hitching gently. There was another goblin—perhaps nineteen and with brown hair—sitting across from her, frowning in concern and stroking an ax in his lap agitatedly, obviously wanting to do _something_, though Tiasal wasn't sure what. Another older goblin man sat next to the crying goblin woman, one hand on her shoulder. A little goblin girl with earlobe-length brown hair sat in the corner, playing with dolls.

Uncle was pacing the room.

Tiasal knew who these goblins were. She had no idea how she had gotten there, but she knew who they were.

"That was a long time ago, Mom. I've moved past it, so you should too. Big brother has been dead and soul bound for fifteen years! You haven't checked on the plane of the living _once_ in all that time?"

Uncle kept pacing around the room, obviously itching to go out, and the goblin woman with white hair looked up from her hands. "Oh, he will find his way out of that gemstone. Eternity is a long time—it'll eventually be smashed, and he's such a clever boy."

"Wait, you're not crying about that?" Uncle looked back at the goblin woman, confused. "Then what are you… oh, right."

"An elf?! An _elf?!_"

Tiasal's air caught in her throat. What was wrong with an elf?

_"You're a disgrace to your elven heritage, goblin bastard."_

Uncle threw his hands in the air. "Mom, I know that it wasn't the best choice, but Vaarsuvius—that's her name, by the way—has done him good. I mean, sure, it would have been better if she were a goblin, but that's not the point…"

"Not the point?!" The white-haired goblin woman sat up sharply, eyes fierce. "Your father and half my family were killed by elves! I would sooner die than have one come into the family!"

"Mom, I hate to say this…"

"You know what I mean, young man!"

"Mom, we don't have time to dwell on species right now!" Uncle held out his hands, keeping the attention of all the other adult goblins in the room. "Don't you see?! This is perfect! He loves Vaarsuvius, and Tiasal—"

"Tiasal?" The woman with the white hair frowned in confusion. "Who's Tiasal?"

"…You haven't gotten up to that part in the TeeVo recording?"

"Which part?"

The oldest goblin in the room—the one next to the woman—stiffened slightly, exchanging glances with an equally distressed-looking Uncle.

"Uh, well, you've noticed how I'm sometimes allowed to go to the mortal plane as a ghost, right?"

"Why are you nervous?" The woman's hackles were rising. "Have you been keeping something from your mother?"

"I thought you already knew!" Uncle backed up defensively, obviously submissive before his mother, a flush coming to his cheeks. "I, uh, I didn't really want to watch anything when big brother and his elf got, um, intimate, but apparently, a protection spell failed and, well, now we have a new member to our family!"

The brown-haired goblin jerked, almost cutting himself with his ax in surprise, making a slight choking sound. The woman stared in shock. The goblin next to the woman patted her shoulder calmingly, apparently the only other who had a vague understanding of what was going on in the land of the living.

The little girl in the corner looked up and smiled. "Cool!" She quickly went back to her dolls.

"Oh come on! Seriously?! I'm the only one who knew this?!"

The white haired goblin woman burst into tears again. "An elf! An elf!"

"That's disgusting!" The goblin with the ax jumped up, reflexively throwing his ax at the wall, embedding it deep in the wood.

Tiasal remained very, very quiet, her ears still.

"Mom, eldest brother, calm down! Don't you see? This is great!"

"Great?!" The white-haired goblin's gaze shot up. "My son has sired an illegitimate half-breed with some elven tramp!"

Tiasal jerked slightly, teeth clenching.

"He is such a talented young man! He could have had any goblin girl he wanted! That nice girl in the hut next to us, or little Ali's cousin…"

Uncle swept his arms around the room. "Guys, don't you see? I know that it's gross and that it would have been better if his child was pure goblin—" Tiasal took in a sharp intake of air, eyes already glowing yellow intensifying, "—but he has a _kid_ and a kinda-sorta _wife_ to live for now!"

He pressed his hands to his chest, smiling. "I was already old and involved with Xykon. We both expected that I would die, but not exactly in the way I did. His daughter and elf aren't old, and his daughter was dragged into this just by merit of her parentage. She's innocent."

The goblin next to the white-haired woman, silent until now, gestured for the agitated ax-wielding brown-haired goblin to sit down. "I'm not sure where you're trying to get at, kid. He killed you, his baby brother, so he wouldn't have to face the fact that it was his fault that all those goblins died. Now he has your death hanging over his head to keep from being worth nothing. Do you think that killing his child and partner is so far-fetched? Wouldn't it cheapen your death if he didn't kill them?"

"No, it wouldn't. That's the _point._" Uncle held out his hands, one eye sparkling. "You're looking at it like he has to choose between me and his current family in regards to death—that if he isn't willing to kill them, then I'm worth less. It's not like that. The deaths are _compounding_. He knows that Xykon isn't above making him kill family, that Vaarsuvius has already been killed once, that he's already lost me, and that his daughter is now in trouble. His relationship with Vaarsuvius has been _changing_ him for the better, and he's got a lot of issues over my death, and he knows that he won't be able to handle too many more lost loved ones. And a daughter! I'm not going to discount the love of brothers, but the love for your kid is something in an entirely different class! This is what we needed to make him give up on the Plan and on Xykon. This kid can save him."

Tiasal's fists clenched.

"Even if something is wrong and he can't look past the half-elf thing and love her, he's still going to feel responsible for her welfare and defy Xykon to get her safe. He's too Lawful to do otherwise."

Hot tears gathered in her eyes.

"This can work for us."

The little girl in the corner looked up, blinking, as though she sensed something happening. Her eyes went to the door, her gaze locking with the burning one of the only living girl in the home.

"Mommy? Uncle? Brother? Eldest brother?"

They all glanced down at her.

"Little sister?"

The little girl frowned in confusion, the scent of licorice and rosemary suddenly thick in the room. "Didn't you tell me that it was bad to say mean things about people when they were there?"

All of the adults frowned in confusion. "Yeah… why?"

She slowly raised her hand and pointed at the slightly opened door. "Then why are you talking about big brother's daughter when she's right there?"

There was a beat, then the adults, Uncle—no, Right-Eye—especially, all paled several shades. Right-Eye glanced at the door, only just realizing that it was ajar, but at an angle where he could not see anything behind it. He tentatively moved forward, opening it wide.

Tiasal saw how the adults recoiled at the sight of her. Beneath their shock and fear, she could see the disgust. And with her new clear eyes, she could see the disgust in Right-Eye's face too. Because she was half-elf. She was hated by her family, both adopted and blood. Hated for being part goblin. Hated for being part elf. Hated for existing. Hated for inconveniencing her parents. Hated for being the cause of her mother's death. Hated for being the proof of her parents' relationship.

Hated for all the things she couldn't help. All the things that were decided before she was born.

It all became clear. No one loved her. No one loved her at all. The mother of her father spurned her for being part elf. Her father's eldest brother was openly disgusted by her. Her father's uncle wanted her to be killed by the man who sired her. The brother her father murdered saw her as nothing more than a tool for her father's redemption.

Her teacher and instructor saw her as a replacement for her mother. Her mother's old spouse hated her for being the evidence of an affair that everyone agreed should have never happened. Her brothers hated her for being the reason her mother was dead and wasn't alive to remarry her old spouse and take care of them. The Order hated her for being conceived when she was and effectively causing Vaarsuvius's death while being the child of a sworn enemy.

Half the world hated her for being goblin. The other half hated her for being elven.

Her mother hated her for coming when she did. Her father hated her for her species.

Hate. Hate. Hate.

She saw it now. She thought that it was just a guilty handful of thoughts, but no. It was always hate. Hate for existing. She should have never existed and they all hated her for it.

She was always the hated.

But now, she was the one who would do the hating.

"Tiasal, I—"

"Don't."

Right-Eye was shocked into silence by the sheer venom in the normally silent girl's voice.

"Don't. Treat me like a tool if that is how you see me. Don't make me think different."

Right-Eye desperately started forward. "Tiasal, no, that's not how it is! You're not just a tool! I lo—"

"Don't, Right-Eye."

He flinched, shocked, as though the mere use of that name was a slap to the face. She supposed it was. She had called him 'Uncle' up until now, and knowing goblin names, she doubted that his real name was Right-Eye.

Tiasal glared at the family, yellow glow growing in her hands. "Never. Never again. Don't appear to me again, Right-Eye." The glow streaked from her eyes and fingers, voice deceptively calm and soft. "My family has used me. Xykon is the only one who has been honest." The glow flared, raspy voice dropping to a whisper. "I won't be fooled again."

Then she was gone, her soul returning to her body on the mortal planes.

Everyone stared at the place she had just been in shock, Right-Eye completely frozen and eyes round with too many emotions to identify. Even the girl in the corner put her dolls down and stared. Silence reigned.

"…Did we just send little brother's daughter running to Xykon?"

No one bothered looking at the brown-haired goblin speaking.

"I… think we did," the eldest male goblin murmured beside the white-haired woman.

The little girl picked up her doll again. "That could have gone better." She started to run her fingers through the doll's hair, unaware of the magnitude of what had happened.

Maybe it was best that way.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Uncle, why can't you touch me?"_

_Uncle looked up at the little girl straddling a tree branch several feet off the ground, frowning a little with his arms crossed. "I don't need to touch you to say that you're going too high on that tree for my liking."_

_"That didn't answer my question." Nonetheless, Tiasal obliged and slipped to a lower branch. _

_"Would you believe me if I said that I was a ghost?" Uncle leaned against the tree, staying watchful for any sign that Tiasal would fall. _

_"Yes."_

_He tilted his head to the side, a smile flickering over his lips. "Then I am."_

_She looked down at him, shimmying up the branch to the trunk of the tree. "I don't want you to be dead." _

_Frankly, Uncle was surprised that she was still talking, but he gladly took it in stride. "Well, it happened a long time ago. I was a little bitter about it at first, but you come to terms with stuff like that. I'm with most of my family now. All I have to worry about is my family still down here, like you and my brother." _

_"Why do you worry about me?" Tiasal slipped to another lower branch, her claws dragging in the wood and keeping her steps secure. _

_"You're my niece. Family." He smiled, a playful twinkle in his eye. "It was about time that I got a niece or nephew anyway. I had to wait nearly half a century for it. It's supposed to be my job to spoil you rotten while my brother scolds me and tries to bring you up right." There was a pause. "I love you, you know. Just incase I haven't said that before."_

_Tiasal looked down at his face, and slowly, a smile broke, her eyes looking just a little more glassy than usual. "I love you too, Uncle." _

_He dipped his head, smiling but embarrassed. "Come on down here before you give me a heart attack. I already died once—I don't want to do it again."_

_She smiled and nodded, sliding down the tree and landing gently on the ground. She didn't talk again that day. All that she had needed said had been said._

_She was happy._

---

Tiasal stayed on her knees, careful to keep from sitting down on the pain that had come back in full force, and scrubbed the hot tears off of her face. Betrayal cut far too deep. How could Un… Right-Eye do this to her? She thought that she could read people. She thought that he loved her. She thought that he didn't care that she was a hybrid.

She was wrong.

Was she just as wrong about everyone else? Abram? Terentius? Octavius? Haley? Elan? Aarindarius? All of her guardians?

Of course she was just as wrong.

They all hated her.

The idea of being hated for her species was so abstract a few mere hours ago. Besides a couple of racist comments from Octavius, she never really understood that there was even an issue about it.

But now…

Now it was her very blood that turned her father's family away from her. She could only assume that it was the same for her mother's family.

The pain in her heart was much sharper and longer-lasting than any physical wound the so-called 'Master' could inflict. She would never let this happen to her again. Never.

And she knew the one person who wouldn't do it to her.

She shakily stood up, leaning on the wall for support and stifling soft pained whimpers, ignoring the sleeping children around her. She could feel the eyes of those few awake following her. She didn't care. Impulse had grasped her tightly, and she wasn't going to struggle against it.

Tiasal staggered quietly to the door, pushing it open. The cleric's beatings must have inspired deep fear in the children. He had left the door unlocked.

There were weird sounds coming from the door across the common room, presumably the cleric's room. Groans, cries, and whimpers came from it. Besides a curious glance, she paid it no mind. She walked out of the common room into the hallway.

Her eyes started to glow a soft yellow again. She didn't know why, but she had an inkling.

The glow suddenly made finding her goal easier. It was still difficult to walk—her movement seemed to have irritated the pain—but she didn't give any indication of it. She walked down the corridor and pushed a door, emanating soft light in her new sight, open.

"Huh? Hey, isn't it past your bedtime, you little brat?"

The woman that had kidnapped Tiasal and the lich were sitting across from each other in comfortable arm chairs, holding cards in their hands and a pile between them. The woman's hair was just as lank and black as before, but now that Tiasal had a chance to look closer, she saw that the woman had a tattoo of a skeletal dragon running up the side of her face.

The lich slowly put his cards on the table face-down. "Your eyes are glowing, by the way."

Tiasal shook her head, blinking, and the glow disappeared. The world became dull again.

"You're a sorcerer."

She nodded tentatively, vague about the definition of a sorcerer. Aarindarius had only said that a sorcerer was someone who was born with magic and didn't need to learn it.

She didn't know if she was a sorcerer for sure, but she figured that Xykon would know better than she did.

"Huh. Well, at least you're not a snobby prick like your mom."

The woman scowled, leaning forward and glaring at the girl. "Hey, bastard child, go back to bed before I decide that I should pay you back for the 'nearly biting half my arm off' incident."

Fear tightened Tiasal's chest. Common sense told her to at least try to sleep on her feelings before doing something rash like this. She should turn around. Sleep. Wait for someone to save her.

She mentally replayed the scene she had just witnessed in the other planes.

Her resolve hardened in her stomach.

"I'm not interested in talking to you," Tiasal murmured softly, voice raspy and harsh. The woman jerked a little in surprise and the little green girl looked up at the lich. "I want to talk to Xykon."

"She speaks!" The lich held his arms up dramatically, ignoring the infuriated Theurge across from him. "I was beginning to wonder if that crazy cleric decided to cut out your tongue or something. Actually, that wouldn't be so surprising. He's a little sick in the head, if you know what I mean." The lich slowly got up from his seat, the black sapphires on his neck twinkling in the firelight. His red eyes bored into her, mouth frozen in a grin, and Tiasal suddenly realized that he had known what she was going to do from the moment he saw her.

The revelation left her a little unnerved, but there was no turning back.

"Necromancer chick, I think you should go to bed."

The woman looked up, her mouth moving to protest, but she stayed silent, her eyes fixed on the little girl and lich. She saw that they already had a connection that she would never have with the object of her affections. Within two days, a little upstart goblin had become the favorite again. It was Redcloak all over.

The bastard had stolen her lich again.

She clenched her fists and stalked out.

The lich slowly crossed his arms, still staring at the little girl. "You know, your father made a deal with me. He regretted it."

"He trusted you to stay in his control." Tiasal tilted her head to the side, keeping eye-contact. "I trust you to be honest."

The lich smirked, letting out a soft hollow chuckle. "You're so cute. Playing around with fire when you should still just be playing with toy blocks, just like your dad." He slowly knelt down in front of her so their eyes were level, one phalange coming up and grabbing a handful of her tangled hair. "So, what do you want?"

Tiasal steadied her erratic heartbeat, keeping her eyes free of fear and ignoring the pain in her scalp. She replayed her so-called 'family's words over and over in her head until it became a mantra. No turning back now. "I want to work for you."

He let out a hollow laugh. "Oh really?" He untangled his hand from her hair. "You're too low a level for me to use as anymore than cannon fodder. But you're Reddy's kid and you're a sorcerer, so I think I can use you."

He leaned forward, perpetually grinning mouth just next to her rigid pointy ear. "What do you think that you'd do for me?"

She calmed her heartbeat.

_"This can work for us."_

_"He'll always hate you."_

"You want me around to hurt my father. To show him his own flaws and racism. And you want me to be a tool to control him." Tiasal turned her head slightly to see the lich's eye sockets, staying calm. "I can do that."

The black sapphires gleamed teasingly. The lich cocked his head, staring at the girl, then let out a chuckle. "Huh. Can't put one past you, can I?" He ran a bony finger through her hair, forcing her to stifle shivers. "So you would help me tie your father's hands and bend him to my will. Why?"

"You told the truth."

The lich… Xykon… slowly straightened, frozen grin thrown in relief from the fire. "You're a cold little brat, aren't you? Turning on your father because I was the only one to say that he hated you?"

"He sired me. He saved me from you the day I was born." She crossed her arms slowly, steeling herself. There was no turning back. There had been no turning back from the moment her father made the first deal with Xykon. "I don't owe him anything past that."

Xykon let his arms hang loosely at his sides, a smirk emanating from his frozen face. "I like you."

Her eyes remained cool. "The feeling isn't mutual."

"I didn't think it was." Xykon gestured to the door. "Go and get some sleep. Now that your magic has started acting up, you'll notice little bursts. I'm sure you can figure it out on your own." His grin seemed to grow. "I did."

He went back to his chair. "I'll teach you a few tricks. The idea of a kid being able to blast people with fireballs and lightning bolts is too funny to pass up. Come here around noon tomorrow. Oh, and if the crazy cleric tries to do anything to your 'special place,' I suggest biting him."

She blinked in confusion.

"You'll understand at some point. Go to bed."

Tiasal hesitated, fully realizing the magnitude of the supposedly innocuous conversation she had just had, before she turned around and left.

She didn't owe anything to Redcloak, Vaarsuvius, or Right-Eye. They owed her for leaving her in the situation she was in.

With that thought, she locked away her fear and shame.


	5. Chapter 5

_"Look, you're going to need to go to sleep at some point." _

_Tiasal smiled up at her amused aunt from her bed, crossing her arms and sticking her lower lip out. _

_"Doesn't work on you, Tia. Your teeth are too pointy to pull a good pouty lip." Haley smiled fondly and ruffled her hair, eyes glazing over just a little. A sign that she was seeing Vaarsuvius in her again. _

_Tiasal ducked a little, squirming under the covers, and pulled a book from under her bed, presenting it to her aunt proudly. _

_"The Little Psion That Could?"_

_Haley arched an eyebrow, smiled, then took the book. "If I read this to you, will you go to sleep?"_

_Tiasal put her fingers to her lips, then to her forehead, smiling. _

_"If I read to you then me and Uncle Elan kiss you goodnight?"_

_She nodded, still smiling._

_"Fine, you little Oompa Loompa." Haley chuckled softly and ruffled her hair again. "I swear you're worse than Abram." _

_Tiasal giggled and settled down in her bed, waiting for her aunt to begin the story._

---

Tiasal stared at the rotting carcass put in front of her before poking its fur gently. It was a rat. It had a big gash on its side—looked like it was from scraping against a nail or something.

She was going to learn necromancy? She had to admit that she was curious, but the way Aarindarius had treated that school of magic had embedded a deep distrust of it in her. Until now, Xykon mostly taught her evocation, transmutation, and conjuration with only a little illusion, enchantment, and minimal abjuration (for some reason, Xykon had been reluctant to go into divination). He had said that necromancy was something he wanted to save.

She guessed that he wasn't saving it anymore.

"I don't suggest touching it too much. You're little fleshy parts may get an infection or something."

She took her hand away from the corpse and shifted uncomfortably on her knees, unable to sit down properly because the crazy cleric (she refused to call him 'Master') didn't deem her cleaning satisfactory.

Xykon smirked at her, sitting across from her on the ground. "The first time I brought something back it life? It was my dog. I went on to people a few years later. It'll probably be the same for you, only you don't have a dead dog. You now have a rat. Bring it to life."

Tiasal looked back down at the rat. "How?"

"How does a spider know how to spin a web? How does a bird know how to fly?" Xykon shrugged and held out his phalanges. "This is a way for me to tell you to BS your way through it. You'll figure it out."

Tiasal blinked and stared at the corpse. She tentatively picked it up, holding it close to her face, frowning. If it were alive, it'd be squirming and squeaking desperately in her hand. What had this rat seen in its life?

_Pretty little jewels on a white thing smelling of death. Danger. Danger. Death smell._

Had it had any children?

_Offspring nursing from mate. Good. Love._

Did anyone miss it?

_Offspring still nursing._

Did its family love it?

_Mate rubbing fur against mine._

Her eyes glowed softly and it felt like ice had been released into her bloodstream. Her temples pounded. Deep at the back of her head, she heard someone scream. Her throat started to close up, something cold reaching out, flipping a switch, dragging something that should be asleep up to the surface. It felt like nature herself was shrieking in pain and fury.

Yellow light shocked through her hand into the rodent, jolting its empty eyes open.

It hung in her hand, unnaturally still, gaze fixed on her. It let out a dull squeak, body just as cold as it was before its revival.

She put it on the ground gently. It shifted so that it was standing on its paws but did nothing else.

"You see? That was easy." Xykon leaned forward and picked up the rat by its tail. It started moving around, trying to bite at his fingers, letting out pitiful squeaking sounds. Tiasal grimaced, eyes fixed on the creature's face.

Xykon caught a glance of her expression. He swung the rat gently, a sense of frowning radiating off his face. "Hey, if you want to get anywhere in life, knock off the 'oh, I'm supposed to be on the good/neutral spectrum so I'm going to feel bad about the rodent' crap. You're no better than I am."

Tiasal looked up at him curiously, frowning in confusion.

"Seriously, letting me use you against your own dad? Teaming up with the undead abomination that killed and soul-bound your parents?" Xykon let out a hollow laugh, bouncing the rat between his fingers like a deranged yo-yo. "You're not good. And you're not neutral."

He held out the squealing undead rat. "Guess which option is left, princess?"

Tiasal stared at him silently, slowly holding her cupped palms out under the rat. The lich dropped the rat in her hands. "Destroy it before we get an undead infestation."

She looked down at it silently. It was her creation. Her gift and curse bestowed on that tiny little animal.

"Are you going to make me tell you twice?"

There was a pause.

She let the rat drop to the ground before standing up and crushing it under her feet.

"Good girl."

Xykon stood up, sauntering out of the room. For want of anything else to do, Tiasal followed him.

The woman with the skeleton dragon tattoo was standing in the hall outside, smiling. "You wanted to see me, my lord?"

"Yeah." Xykon gestured Tiasal forward, provoking a scowl from the tattooed woman. "Go and… I dunno. Make her pretty."

Tiasal looked up at him curiously and the woman's scowl deepened. "Why?"

"Because it's hard to hang the safety of a kiddy damsel in distress over a Lawful goblin if said damsel looked like she just won a wrestling match with a tree."

Tiasal arched an eyebrow. Xykon reached down and pulled a leaf from her hair that had gotten tangled in last week and held it up for emphasis.

The woman looked ready to kill.

"Go grab some servant kids and make her look like she's worth saving."

Lovely to know that she needed to look clean and pretty to be worth saving for her father.

The woman hesitated, then after staring at Xykon for a moment, she let out a huff and grabbed Tiasal by her hair. "I should have killed the bastard child while I had the chance."

Tiasal jerked a little in the woman's grip but was dragged down the hall to another room. This one had a four-poster bed and a beauty table, along with two servant kids dusting it and making the bed. Both children looked up in panic and ducked their heads, making for the door.

"You two stay here."

The children froze. Tiasal recognized them as Swift and Leaves. She didn't really know them beyond the fact that Swift was a halfling boy with brown hair and gray eyes and Leaves was an female elf with dark green hair and brown-green eyes with prominent yellow, orange, and red flecks in them.

The woman ushered Tiasal into a big bathroom with a luxurious bath. "You can take a bath on your own."

Tiasal nodded slowly, suspicious about whether or not the woman would try to drown her, but no such thing happened and the woman simply left the room.

Tiasal, reluctant to try the woman's patience and see if she really would drown her, immediately took her clothes off and filled the tub. She washed herself quickly, trying to scrub off as much filth as possible, and did her best to clean her tangled hair.

Before she knew it, she was draining the water and scrambling out, wrapping herself up in a towel before scampering outside again.

The woman gave her a cursory glance, scowling, before pointing to the nervous Swift. "Go and find something pretty that will fit her. I'm sure that crazy Master of yours has something—maybe a dress or skirt and shirt. Make sure it's not too over the top."

Swift nodded quickly and ran out. The woman turned to Leaves, still scowling. "You go and get a brush and some hair-ties." Leaves quickly scampered off and the woman turned to Tiasal. "Dry yourself off. You're lucky I hate Reddy so much—I actually want to twist his heart around, so I'm going to help you look good."

Tiasal nodded slowly, eyes slipping down to the woman's forearm. There was a vicious semi-circle scar ripping through her flesh. The green girl had a private moment of triumph before drying herself off and dropping the towel aside. The scar was a mark of her power. The woman before her didn't have as much control as she would have liked to say.

Swift came back in, head ducked, and presented a pile of clothes. "Master said that any of these would do."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure he knows what looks nice on little girls." The woman lay the clothes on the bed, frowning at an array of dresses, shirts, and skirts. "Too flashy… too gothic… too old fashioned…" She made a disgusted face and picked up what Tiasal assumed was supposed to be a shirt which happened to lack anything but covering for the chest area. (What kind of shirt was that?) "Too _skanky_. I didn't know that they _made_ stuff like that for kids. Oh, here we go."

She pulled out an ankle-length cream-colored skirt with a lavender T-shirt. "Feminine. That'll work."

She handed the child the clothes. "Put these on. We're going to make you look like a girl your daddy wants to take care of."

Tiasal scowled, hardening herself against the consciously hurtful comments, and slipped the clothes on. She felt like she would take several levels of girlishness by the time this was done.

"Hey, you," the woman pointed at Leaves, "brush her hair. You," the woman pointed at Swift, "go find a file and fix up her nails. They're looking all sharp and… goblin-y. You don't look cute and modest when you have frickin' claws."

Leaves wordlessly started trying to work a brush through Tiasal's tangled hair, but a telling thing about it was the fact that she actually tried to make it painless, quite a feat with the way the child had left it. Swift quickly ran off, coming back with a nail file and starting on the green girl's claws.

Tiasal kept herself from wincing in pain when the brush was carefully dragged through her hair. She felt uncomfortable with these strange people working with her body. Her Aunt Haley was the one who filed down her claws so she wouldn't cut herself. Aarindarius was the one who would brush her when she didn't, a slightly exasperated yet amused smile on his lips. Aunt Celia was the one who would make her look pretty and let her dress up and feel like a girl.

But then again, they had probably only done those things to make her look less goblin. Less monstrous. Less like the father they hated.

The woman with the dragon tattoo smirked, slowly running a tendril of purple hair through her fingers. Tiasal stifled a shiver.

"You know, it's like a copy of your mother's hair." The woman twisted the lock around her finger, pulling it just enough to force Tiasal to keep back a wince. Leaves and Swift both glanced up curiously before ducking their heads, Leaves continuing to brush. "Sometimes, when they thought I wasn't looking, I saw Reddy running his fingers through her hair. He liked it a lot. Could barely keep his hands away. He'd do other stuff, too. Nuzzling her neck. Stroking her hand. All that disgustingly mushy stuff."

The woman smirked, leaning in far enough so that her breath tickled the side of Tiasal's face, sending jolts through her sensitive ears and making them try to swivel away. She squirmed uncomfortably. "He liked her ears a lot too. I would always see him fondling them like they were one of his religious artifacts when they didn't know I was there. I didn't get it, but considering the way she reacted, nothing PG was going on."

Tiasal wasn't sure how she should react to this. Something deep within told her that she was being told about something that was personal and intimate between her parents, something that should only belong to them.

Leaves and Swift seemed to know more about it than she did. Both of them exchanged meaningful glances, Swift's cheeks getting a little red and Leaves' ears twitching.

The woman gave a dramatic sigh, running her fingers through the royal purple hair. "I think I see why he liked her hair so much, now. If she took better care of it, I bet she would have actually looked attractive. Maybe even like a woman." She pulled the last of the leaves and twigs out of it. "The strands are fine, the hair is thick, and it's soft. A perfect combination. Hell to brush, but a wonderful attraction for men." She smirked slowly. "Men love good hair. They like something to stroke when the clothes are on."

She untangled her fingers from the strands. "Keep that crazy cleric's hands away from there. He's excited enough as it is."

Leaves finished off with the hair, putting the brush aside and picking up the hair-ties. "Would you like me to give her hair a specific style, Ms. Tsukiko?"

"I don't care as long as she looks innocent and vulnerable."

Leaves nodded and ran her fingers through the royal purple hair, parting it in the middle and starting to work slowly at it.

"Your dad had to be fricken' desperate to go for your mom, nice hair aside."

Tiasal repressed a sigh and got ready for more insults towards her parents.

"She was just sleeping with him because he could keep her safe. He just stuck with her because she put out. Then you came along so they were stuck with each other. Be happy that Xykon and I killed them. They would have made you and each other miserable anyway."

Leaves and Swift exchanged quick glances. Tiasal ignored them all. The woman was malicious. The children were inconsequential. The dead goblin and elf did not matter anymore.

She spaced out until the whole 'makeover' was over.

---

"My lord, I must ask why you wish so much for this goblin to return to life."

The cleric's back was stooped as he shambled into the dim basement room, slowly hanging his swinging lantern to a hook fixed in the wall. The firelight brightened the area enough to see a lich lounging in a comfortable armchair, pausing a wide-screen crystal ball with Teevo, and a red bed shoved against the wall, a disturbingly still body lying under the covers. "He did betray you, after all."

"Yeah, well, he knows a few things I don't. Namely, the rituals to control a certain god-killing abomination. And he's able to deal with strategy without bothering me too much about it. And he's amusing." The lich distractedly stared at his finger bones, picking out bits of debris that got stuck in his joints. "Oh, and he's a higher level than you. That doesn't hurt."

The cleric hobbled to the bed slowly, firelight throwing his aged face in relief. "But he still betrayed you."

"That's easy to deal with. It's practically a requirement to have the main lackey be a traitorous bitch. I just need something to hang over his head." Xykon let his hand drop, the gems replacing his eyes glowing bright. "His love-child will do the trick. He's Lawful and he has issues about failing to protect family. He'll do whatever he can to make sure she's safe."

"She's a… lovely girl."

"Keep your hands off of her, crazy." Xykon stood up, smirking. "She's useful. I don't care what you do with all those other little ankle-biters, but I don't want you creeping on her unless Reddy really messes up."

The cleric stooped a little further, frowning darkly. "What makes you believe that I can resurrect him, my lord? The soul needs to be willing to return to the body."

"Reddy's not going to want to hang too much around the afterlife. Probably worried about getting gang-beaten by his family. And he's still got things to do, deicidal abominations to enslave, and stillborn children to take care of. Oh, and he also needs to figure out how to release his whore's soul."

The cleric hobbled slowly to the bed, peeling the covers back to reveal a fully-clothed skeleton, bony hand resting on top of a holy symbol to the Dark One. The other arm was missing.

"My lord, what happened to his arm?"

Xykon stood up and slowly walked up next to the cleric, shrugging. "I think that those adventurers needed it incase they ever managed to break my little baubles."

The cleric frowned.

"I did the same to the whore, so we're even."

The cleric sighed softly, opening his robe a little to pull out the bag of diamonds Tsukiko had collected.

"Hey, crazy cleric, how long have we had Reddy's bastard child here?"

He looked up at the lich, eyes dark and calculating and voice husky and deep. "A month and a half, my lord."

"Huh. And it's taken this long to resurrect Redcloak?"

"Indeed."

Xykon shrugged, making a quick gesture towards the skeleton in the bed. "I'm not getting any deader. Better bring him to life before we wait another month." He pulled one of the sapphires from his necklace, electricity of despair, longing, and anger shooting down his fingers, and without a word, he crushed it into dust.

"Get going."

The cleric nodded and slowly rested his hand on the inanimate skeleton's. "Resurrection. Resurrection. Resurrection…"


	6. Chapter 6

_"An adventurer party is passing through the field? Seriously? There's nothing here!"_

_"Nothing except easy passage to some of the more active adventuring areas. And Tiasal…" A frustrated sigh. "Belkar, you know what it's like. You know what we need to do. You see green skin and you immediately think 'XP.' You don't think about whether or not it's a kid. You don't think about whether or not there's a threat."_

_"I don't see the problem here."_

_"Adventurers who don't seem too sympathetic towards goblins want to shack up in our place tonight. Roy, Durkon, and Elan have already gone to see if they can pick up any sign of Xykon in the last city he was seen in. You, Abram, Aarindarius, and I are the only ones here who don't look like walking XP. I'm not letting my son get involved with this, so that leaves you, Aarindarius, and me. They're going to treat Tia like they treat any other goblin, Belkar."_

_"Well we can fix that easily. I've been needing a new chip bowl."_

_"Belkar!" A frustrated growling and teeth-grinding noise. "No killing random adventurers! Besides, they're mid-level. We can handle them easily, sure, but they're still a threat. They want to stay here for the night, and they're apparently working for some king or other. If they disappear mysteriously before meeting up with the entourage waiting for them in the mountains, the king will get suspicious and we'll be investigated. We can make this easy. You're going to make sure that Tia stays in bed and no one goes into her room. Aarindarius is going to act as my husband. Abram is going to be a boy we hired to help take care of the place."_

_"This seems needlessly complicated."_

_"When you're hiding things, the more lies you tell, the better. Rule of thumb in the rogue's handbook." Her voice dropped to an annoyed growl. "And besides: they seem to keep much better control of their hands when my 'husband' is in the room." Her voice went up again. "Can I trust you to take care of Tia?"_

_"I still don't see the point to this."_

_"Belkar, she's not an adventurer. She's a little kid with green skin. I don't want her hurt."_

_"You think I do?" There was a shuffling sound. "Keep your pants on. I'll make sure she stays intact." _

_Her door creaked open, then shut quietly. Tiasal pretended she was asleep. There were the gentle taps of bare feet against the wooden floor. A hand, so light that she could have imagined it, brushed against her shoulder. The chair under her window groaned as someone sat in it, and through the cracks between her eyelids, she saw a blade gleam in her uncle's lap, his hand loosely wrapped around the hilt. He maintained his vigil all night. _

---

Molten gold eyes snapped open for the first time in nearly sixteen years. Lungs inflated with stale dungeon air, shuddering with coughs. The aged human cleric stepped away slowly from the bed, hobbling just a little, then dipped his head to Xykon. "I must attend to my children, my lord."

"Sure, sure, whatever."

Xykon leaned forward, ignoring the frozen Teevo screen and just staring at the disoriented goblin on the bed as the aged cleric left the room.

"Welcome back to the land of the living and unliving."

Redcloak looked up blindly at Xykon, eyes wide, mouth opened slightly as if to speak. "…!"

"What, cat got your tongue? Did you miss me, Reddy? Aw, I knew you cared."

Redcloak swallowed, blinking and rubbing his eyes hard.

"Are you going to talk? Because I'm seriously starting to think that there is something up with your genes. Is muteness inherited? Well, actually, that would mean that you've always been mute. Alright, then. Maybe it's a recessive gene? Or maybe you inherit it retroactively from your kids."

"Xykon… why am I here?"

Redcloak rubbed his temples, sitting forward slowly, his bones letting out audible cracks with this new movement. He turned a little, his eyes focusing on the lich, the lich that had taken his niece, nephews, sister-in-law, brother, wife, daughter, and life from him.

His face took on an ugly look of hatred.

"Why am I here, Xykon?"

"Ooh, looks like I got Daddy angry. I'd better blame the mess on the dog." Xykon stood up, a smirk radiating from his frozen face, and sauntered closer to the newly-resurrected goblin. "Oh, Reddy. Can't I resurrect you just to get caught up on old times? And, you know, have a high-level cleric hanging around who knows some ancient rituals I need to have in order to get control of a deicidal abomination?"

"I don't work with you anymore." Redcloak stood up sharply from his bed, knees buckling slightly, but he was able to lean his weight on the wall easily. He closed his eyes, face creasing with inner frustration and pain. "I should have cut you off long ago. Too many people have been lost because of me not being able to face the meaninglessness of their deaths. Too many people I love are gone. But Vaarsuvius…" His shoulders tensed, red magic flaring at his hands. "Vaarsuvius. Vaarsuvius was the last straw. There's nothing more to take away, Xykon. You've done everything you can do. Soulbind me again if you want. The rifts aren't there anymore. You can't hold Vaarsuvius's soul or my own over my head."

He opened molten eyes again. "There's nothing more."

Xykon took a moment to contemplate the goblin in front of him, his head tilted slightly. "Oh, Reddy. It's only a failure of imagination on your part to say that I can't do anything more."

His frozen grin seemed to stretch. "Sure, you're speeches are overwrought and self-righteous as ever, but I gotta say, that whore's death made you grow a pair big time. Or maybe it was something else that did that. Hey, how much do you remember from being stuck in my bauble?"

Redcloak's angry expression morphed into one of confusion. He had expected a reminder of his brother. Maybe an empty threat towards Vaarsuvius. Not total flippancy. "…Just that it's been a very long time."

"Okay. Come on upstairs—the Necromancer chick is still around. And she still hates you. I love conflict! But you two are going to have to keep a lid on it until after we talk about everything you missed."

Redcloak blinked, unsure if he should be indignant or confused and settling on a combination of both. "Xykon, did you hear a word I just said?"

"Oh, yeah. But I don't think that you meant any of it. That'd just be stupid of you."

The goblin's brow furrowed, muscles tightening in fury. "I don't work f—"

"I have your daughter."

Redcloak froze mid-word.

"She's surprisingly animate for a stillborn."

There was a long silence. Redcloak jerked slightly, shaking his head and frowning. "Xykon, she was stillborn. I know you're trying to see if I lied to you, but I was honest when I said that."

His ears were stiff his face imperceptibly grim. He was gambling in hope.

Xykon's frozen grin darkened. "You have some serious balls to be lying to me now."

"I'm not lying." But Redcloak's complexion paled considerably. This wasn't a trick. He knew it wasn't.

"Either you're lying or we stumbled on some _other_ green-skinned, purple-haired, purple-eyed half-breed who knows who you, your whore, and I are." He crossed his arms, shrugging. "But whatever. If she's not yours, then I'm sure you won't mind me locking her outside and watching her freeze to death. I've been wondering what color goblin half-breeds turn when they get cold."

Redcloak's breath caught in his throat. Xykon leaned forward, their faces a mere hair apart. "So, Reddy, was your kid stillborn?"

"…" Redcloak swallowed hard, eyes wide. "Please don't hurt her."

"Oh, Reddy. You're so spineless." Xykon straightened, glare boring deep into the goblin to the point that Redcloak could actually feel heat from it. "You cheeky little bastard. You thought that I wouldn't find out about your brat? I'll admit that those adventurer guys were effective at hiding her for a while, but we both have time to find out secrets, don't we?"

"Have you done something to my daughter?"

Xykon leaned forward again, hot red gems inches away from gold eyes. "What if I did?"

Redcloak's eyes became molten. His muscles went tight. His sharp teeth were bared. His claws stretched out. "I swear, if you've hurt her at all, I'm going to—"

"What? You're going to what?" Xykon placed his hands firmly on the goblin's chest, careful to not touch bare skin—it wouldn't do for Redcloak to be paralyzed—and shoved him back on the bed with bruising force, almost breaking the furniture and the goblin's bones. "Guess what—you're just as powerless now as ever."

The lich let out a hollow laugh. "What are you going to try to do? Try to kill me with your lack of spells and levels? Go on another one of your whiny, self-righteous tirades? You have nothing. No power, no knowledge, and no leverage. I have everything. I have epic levels, countless minions swarming this tower, and your little brat. I'm sure Tsukiko wouldn't mind being put in charge of the kid's _care._"

Redcloak paled again.

"And here you are, willing to stand up to me for the sake of some bastard that you haven't seen in fifteen years."

"Fifteen years?" Redcloak's face paled further, eyes going wide. "My daughter's fifteen years old?"

"Oh gods, spare me the annoying parental angst." Xykon threw up his hands. "_Yes,_ she's fifteen years old. The nifty thing about having elf blood is that you age really freaking slowly, apparently. She looks like she's eight. Doesn't act like it, though. It's kind of creepy, if you ask me. I'm not complaining, but she's one frikkin' creepy kid. Are we going to go and get you caught up on what you need to do now that you're alive again now?"

Redcloak's eyes drifted down to the necklace still worn by the lich, fixated on the sparkling sapphires taunting him. He took a tight grip of the fear within, drawing on the surety that his elf was near. He could be brave for his daughter's sake. "I want to see Tiasal. I want to see my daughter."

Xykon slowly straightened again, backing away, his frozen expression turning back into a macabre smile and a hollow chuckle reverberating from his empty ribcage. "Yeah. You want to see your daughter. You might not like what you see, Reddy. Or vice-versa."

Redcloak swallowed hard, finally dropping any pretense that he had a choice in this matter. He let his eyes linger on the sapphire holding the soul of Vaarsuvius, giving a silent apology. He would find a way to be with his lover again, but he had to admit that it would still be a long time until he could figure out how to do that while keeping Tiasal safe. His heart ached for the familiar elven presence, the delicate fingers intertwined with his. He wanted Vaarsuvius back. He wanted Tiasal back. He just wanted to be allowed to have his family and for Xykon to never threaten them again.

But that wasn't possible.

"I want to see my daughter, Lord Xykon. Please."

Xykon paused, then relaxed, mollified by the obvious admission of defeat. "Well, who am I to deny a deadbeat dad the right to see his love child? We'll make an event of it—we got a new hire while you went missing who I'm sure you'll be really interested in meeting. And the Necromancer chick's gotten older. Maybe you can start sleeping with _her_ or something; she's a better pick than your whore at any rate."

Redcloak stifled his bristling at the insult towards his absent wife. (Wife? Well, they hadn't married, but it felt like they had all the same.) "I doubt it, Lord Xykon."

"You're probably right. You had a better chance as a skeleton." Xykon pointed at the door. "I'll go tell the Necromancer chick to get everyone upstairs. Hurry up—wouldn't want to keep your little girl up past her bedtime, would you?"

Redcloak could hear an underlying threat there, but he wasn't quite sure what Xykon was threatening. He had no intention of trying to find out, though.

He quietly prayed to the Dark One for his daughter's and lover's safety and quietly followed his leader out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

_Tiasal gasped in awe at the sprawling landscape that was her field, keeping her arms tight around her aunt's neck and picking out all of the little landmarks she knew by heart. "Aunt Celia…"_

"_You see? I told you you would like it! Like it enough to talk, even!" her cousin chirped happily, his little wings beating hard next to her. "Have I ever been wrong, Mommy?"_

"_You don't want me to answer that, you little panda." Aunt Celia smiled, her braid blowing gently in the wind, and she kept Tiasal cradled to her breast. "You should listen to your sister more, you know. She's older. And she's the one who's usually right."  
_

_Tiasal peered out far. "Auntie! There's a town past the woods!"_

_Tiasal felt her aunt tense a little. She wondered for a moment and hoped that her auntie's reaction was only due to the fact that she was talking more than usual. _

"_Yes, there is."_

"_Why haven't I ever been there?" _

_Her auntie was quiet for a while, and Tiasal didn't need to be told that she was about to be lied to. _

"_Well, we just figure that you'd be happiest here. Towns are very uncomfortable—everyone's all hustle and bustle and no one cares what happens to you." She lightly brushed her lips against the green girl's hairline. "Let's go back inside. Your Uncle Elan is working on something special for dinner and he may need help."_

_They swooped down to the ground. _

_Tiasal didn't ask anymore questions._

"Alright, then. You have a few minutes, then the kid needs to get to bed." Xykon sat in his armchair and picked up a magazine from the table, looking at it in a bored manner and waiting impatiently.

Redcloak was barely listening to him. He had eyes only for one person at the moment.

The little girl was expressionless, but her posture was a little guarded. Her eyes had a carefully studious look, the same look Vaarsuvius had always had in the beginning of their relationship when the elf was trying to categorize Redcloak. He supposed that his daughter was trying to do the same. (By the Dark One, please say that their flaws weren't genetic!)

He could understand that reaction. Fifteen years. By the Dark One, he had missed the first fifteen years of his only daughter's life.

He knelt down slowly, almost afraid to look at her. What must she think of him? Getting her mother pregnant, a condition that she wouldn't survive without the help of clerics, then waltzing off to destroy the world and be killed in the process? Leaving her to be raised by people who were of no relation to her? Giving her the skin and features that would guarantee a hard life and not bothering to stay around to support her through it? If he were in her position, he would have a much worse reaction to his father. It felt as though he should be asking for her forgiveness. It wasn't right to look her in the eye as though he hadn't done anything wrong.

By the Dark One, she looked so much like Vaarsuvius. It made his heart ache horribly. Her hair was purple and pulled into tight, restrictive braids. Her features were just as delicate as the ones he had touched and kissed. Her eyes were violet, the elf's color, but something in them shattered the illusion of Vaarsuvius. Whereas his wife's eyes were always flaming with uncompromising pride and showed exactly what the elf thought of whoever they landed on, his daughter's eyes were more subtle and difficult to read. They were veiled, calculating, deceptive. She knew that knowledge was power, so she guarded it carefully. Where Vaarsuvius would march up to a problem and blast it, the girl before him would subversively and quietly solve it or take it out.

His daughter's eyes may have had the same color as his wife's, but they were more his own than Vaarsuvius's.

"I…" He trailed off, swallowing hard. The little girl patiently waited for him to start speaking. It looked like someone had cut her claws—Redcloak prayed to the Dark One fervently that they would grow back before she needed them—but her tiny tusks were perfectly intact and bright white. Goblin, yes, but elven as well. Had he seen her before he fell in love with Vaarsuvius, he would have been disgusted. He wasn't. He couldn't be.

She was his. She was beautiful.

"Tiasal?"

Her ears—an odd cross between a goblin's and an elf's (he briefly wondered if they were sensitive)—perked up at the mention of her name, and she slowly nodded.

"By the Dark One…"

What was he supposed to do? Her eyes were picking him apart and studying him, piece by piece, as one would a confusing logic problem. He wanted to hug her tightly and tell her that he loved her and promise that he would find a way to take her away from Xykon and anyone else who would make her unhappy, but somehow, it seemed that that would be coming on a little strong. He had to remind himself that he was a stranger to her. It hurt, but it was true. He quietly promised to find some way to be a proper father—no one should have to grow up for fifteen years without their parents.

"Do you mind if I touch you?"

The little girl hesitated briefly, then gave a small shake of her head.

Redcloak tentatively slipped his arms around her waist, trying to gauge if he was scaring her or not, before he hugged her tightly. "By the Dark One…!"

He was holding his daughter. His Tiasal. For the first time in fifteen years, he was with his child.

Hot tears gathered in his eyes, but he did his best to blink them away for his daughter's sake. He wasn't going to scare her. She was probably scared enough as it stood.

He wanted nothing more than to take away all her fear and pain.

He pulled away, discreetly wiping his eyes and letting out a sad chuckle. "I'm sorry. Fifteen years without a word and the first thing I do is swear by my god and hug you." He tentatively touched her cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "By the Dark One, you've grown so much since the last time I saw you. You know who I am, right?"

She nodded slowly, eyes still not betraying a thought.

"Tiasal. There's so much I want to ask and say… I don't know where to begin."

"You're going to have to finish up fast. I'm bored."

Redcloak tensed a little at Xykon's voice, but he didn't protest. He was treading on thin ice and he didn't want his daughter hurt.

He tried to hide the tell-tale tremble in his hand as he lightly stroked his daughter's head, wishing for nothing more than to have those fifteen years back with his child and wife.

"Tiasal, I'm sorry that I haven't been here." He clasped her shoulders desperately, trying to gauge how much more time he was allowed. He decided that Xykon would tolerate a minute or two. But, by the looks of the subtle warning leer, Redcloak knew that saying those three words he wanted nothing more than to say to his daughter would be one of the worst moves he could make. Xykon didn't understand love, and he was trying to hurt Redcloak in every way possible.

He was being denied the ability to tell his own daughter that he loved her.

"I'm going to try to make it up to you, okay? Somehow." He hesitated, then impulse won over and he gently brushed his lips against her forehead. "But right now, I think that our time's up. Keep safe, and have sweet dreams."

The little girl bobbed her head slowly. Redcloak smiled for her sake, glancing discreetly at Xykon to get a sense of the lich's thinning patience before gesturing her towards the door. "I'll try to see you again soon. Good night, Tiasal."

She must have heard the strain of fear in his voice. She backed up towards the door, eyes still fixed on him. "…Good night."

He frowned at the abnormal rasp in her voice, but she turned around, her braids bouncing on her back, and slipped out the door like a ghost. His daughter was gone again.

Gone. Just like when she was a baby.

Xykon put his magazine aside. "I swear, if you're crying, I'm going to have to throw up. Despite being physically unable to."

"I'm not crying." Redcloak angrily wiped his eyes. "That was cruel, Xykon. I haven't seen my daughter since the day of her birth." He swallowed hard, furious at his own inability to hide his feelings from the lich. "I'd… I would like a chance to spend time with her…"

"She doesn't seem too broken up about it. Anyway, get up. The Necromancer chick and the new guy are coming over to get you caught up with what's been going on for the past fifteen years."

Redcloak slowly stood up, wiping his eyes and trying to get control of himself. He wanted his daughter back. He wanted Vaarsuvius. He wanted to tackle Xykon to the ground and rip him apart bone by bone to make sure that he would never ever terrorize Redcloak's family again.

His daughter was trapped, scared, and in danger. His wife was locked away in a sapphire.

And there was nothing he could do.

He clenched his fists and silently promised Vaarsuvius and Tiasal that he would find a way to get them out of this disaster he had started. He was not going to lose anymore family for this.

The door swung open.

"Hey! The rest of the party has arrived!"

Redcloak looked up, frowning darkly and eyes zeroing in on a familiar woman. Her hair was longer, loose, and she was definitely older. She had a tattoo crawling across her face—Redcloak hadn't expected it, but he wasn't surprised.

He recognized her easily.

"Tsukiko."

"Reddy." Tsukiko sauntered forward, smirking, the bone dragon moving with her changing expression. "Have you seen your brat yet?"

Redcloak struggled to keep his face and voice neutral. He couldn't deal with Tsukiko's jibes just then, especially if they had something to do with his daughter or wife. He had barely come to terms with the circumstances himself.

He looked down to get control, but his eyes landed on an odd lop-sided scar on her forearm. It was a bite mark. A bite mark from someone who really ripped in. A bite mark from someone without a fully-developed set of adult teeth and with long canines and tusks.

Warmth flooded in his chest and his mouth went up slowly in a smirk. "I take it that my daughter put up a struggle?"

Tsukiko frowned darkly, pulling her sleeve over her scar. "Shut up."

Tiasal had fought back.

He felt some of his fear melting away. His daughter wasn't fearfully crouched in a corner and waiting for someone to swoop in and save her. She was making her own way out. Just like her mother.

If Tiasal had Vaarsuvius's spirit, she would be okay.

Redcloak leaned back, still smirking proudly, and crossed his arms. "Let's get this over with. You were talking about the Snarl as if we could still get to it, Lord Xykon. Why?"

Tsukiko scowled at him, impatiently tracing the scar on her forearm, and an old human hobbled into the room, sitting down in an armchair. Xykon stretched out a phalange, grin frozen wide on his skull. "Because we can. The rifts just have new nifty gates on them. And guess what, Reddy? We both have all the time we want. I say we try taking over the world again."

Redcloak frowned slowly, keeping his arms crossed. "The rifts are changing positions, then, aren't they? That's the new defense mechanism to keep anyone from finding them."

"Magic is the answer to everything! You and I team up and make one of the rifts stand still long enough to put a leash on it. You get to make goblins the dominant species and I get to take over the world. Everyone wins."

Redcloak hesitated, tensing a little. The rifts were still within his grasp. The Plan…

The combined voices of his little brother, his wife, and his daughter all shouted in his head to stop right there. He had been fine about abandoning the Plan in favor of his family a few minutes ago.

But that was before he knew there was still hope for it. What if he could still make all the death worth it? What if he could make a world where his daughter could grow up without being abused by wretched humanoids that couldn't look past her green skin and pointed teeth…?

What abuse had she already suffered because of her goblin heritage? What abuse _will_ she suffer? He'd done so many things wrong by her—what did his blood make her endure? What if he could…

No. The voices of his loved ones were all screaming in his head to stop going down this train of thought.

He pushed it all away. He didn't have a choice in the matter anyway. Xykon had his daughter and Vaarsuvius's soul. He'd already lost everyone else—he couldn't survive losing them.

"_You should not look at me like that." Vaarsuvius smiled, kissing Redcloak gently and snuggling close to his bare body. "We are not supposed to love each other, remember."_

_Redcloak lovingly stroked his lover's noticeably swollen belly, brushing his lips against it before straightening to kiss the elf's lips. "Not supposed to, but I love you."_

"_I love you too, Redcloak." _

_The goblin let out a low purring deep in his chest, and his heart swelled when his lover let out a happy 'hmm' and there was the slight thump of kicking in the slender abdomen. Vaarsuvius took his hand and gently pressed it against the kicks, wincing only a little but still smiling. _

_Their family was together._

_Redcloak was happy._

He couldn't survive losing them.

"I'm taking this long silence as a 'sure, Lord Xykon, let's do it!'" Xykon made a vague gesture towards the old man in the armchair. "Reddy, this guy is the crazy cleric who owns this place and all the little runts you'll see doing stuff for us."

"'The little runts'…?"

The old man shifted slowly in his armchair. "The people of the village down the mountain are rather poor, so I take care of their little ones here and, in exchange for the children's help in maintaining my tower and other such jobs, I give their families free healing and a small sum of money annually. You will not see the children often. I do not have so many."

Tsukiko frowned, arching an eyebrow and tracing her scar. "You pay them so you can…? Never mind. I really don't want to know."

Redcloak fidgeted, looking at the man and sizing him up warily. "Would I be right to assume that my daughter is under your care, then?"

"Yes." The old man bobbed his head slowly, something gleaming in his eyes that deeply unsettled the goblin for no apparent reason. "She is quite a beautiful girl. Quiet, though."

The goblin frowned, reluctant to let a complete stranger—worse, a complete stranger that happened to be human and work for Xykon—have control over his daughter, but he had little choice in the matter.

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be reading those brats a bedtime story? Or tucking them in or something? And you, Necromancer chick, go make sure that all our anti-divination spells are up or something."

Tsukiko and the old man exchanged glances, picking up on the not-so-subtle hint and leaving the room.

Redcloak prepared himself for a short lecture. Maybe a threat. Maybe a reminder of how much Xykon controlled him and his family.

He wasn't prepared.

Xykon sauntered forward slowly, frozen grin leering down at the goblin. The scent of licorice was absent from the air, but Redcloak could feel the tension in the air crackle like electricity. The light persona the lich sometimes took on was dropped.

Redcloak frowned grimly and waited.

"Hey, I know that you probably plan on betraying me at some point." The lich crossed his arms slowly. "Whether you'll betray me for your cause or for you, your brat, and your whore's freedom is up to you, but you're a deceitful little son of a bitch so you'll do it for any reason. I should probably tell you something, Reddy: killing and soul-binding your brat's not the only thing I can do."

Redcloak's skin paled.

"That crazy cleric? He likes her. A lot." The lich slowly sat down next to Redcloak, red gems glowing bright and black sapphires gleaming teasingly. "He likes all the kids he's got, but the exotic ones… well, he has a taste for them."

Redcloak's throat closed up. "You're not saying…"

"It's been a little grating on him that he's not allowed to do anything with the pretty little green-skinned, purple-eyed, purple-haired half-breed girl. I mean, he's only got, what, a dozen kids? Not enough for a lot of variety. But I know that you wouldn't like anything going on, so I'm giving you a deal." The lich smirked. He had all the cards, and they both knew it. "You'll be totally loyal. As long as you're that, all clothes are staying on. But I don't know—if you make a stupid mistake, maybe she'll wake up one day without her shirt. Next time you do it, maybe her pants will come off too. Maybe the time after that, she won't be the only one naked."

Redcloak trembled, his eyes fixed on his hands, and the lich slowly drew away. "So when you're planning out what to do and what your or our next move is, there's something to take into consideration."

There was a long silence.

"So let's get on the same page: what do you plan on doing, Reddy?"

Redcloak was very quiet.

"Answer me."

The goblin slowly hung his head. He saw how much the lich controlled him—he had thought that Xykon had only one ace in the hole: Tiasal's life. He had hoped that he could work a way out to save them as long as the small transgressions Xykon caught weren't too big to throw away the only leverage against him.

This new element wasn't something that could only be used once. The sickening realization dawned that this was something Xykon could use over and over and over again. For every mistake, every small defiance, that _monster_ would take out his sick fantasies on Tiasal. _His_ Tiasal.

He would never risk his daughter being violated like that.

"I'm loyal to you, Lord Xykon. I always have been and I always will be."

Xykon crossed his arms, coming closer to the defeated goblin until their faces were a breath away. "And don't you forget it, _bitch_."

Redcloak couldn't stop a wince.

"And your first order of your new life is to not scream." The frozen grin grew. "You have one eye too many."

Redcloak obediently didn't scream while the problem was fixed.


	8. Chapter 8

_Tiasal shrieked. Fire roared up, licking her face and arms, biting at her like a rabid dog. She threw down her burning shirt, screaming and trying to back away from the hungry flames. _

_"Tiasal!" _

_Uncle Elan jumped in front of her, curling around her protectively and picking her up, sprinting away from the blaze. "AARINDARIUS!" The fire jumped forward like bloodhounds. "AARINDARIUS!" _

_Aarindarius seemed to materialize next to them and he held out a hand, the fire immediately ceasing to be. Elan skidded to a stop, gulping for air, and the wizard took a moment to make sure they were both okay._

_Tiasal whimpered softly in fear and pain, the black burns marring her skin throbbing. Elan sighed in relief, burying his face in her wild purple hair and murmuring something unintelligible. White magic left his fingers in tendrils, healing her burns._

_Aarindarius frowned, walking forward through the wreckage the fire had left and frowning at the lake, noting the weird soot patterns climbing from the shore to the scorched trees surrounding it. "The fire was magical. It started on the surface of the water." _

_The smell of smoke slowly rose and Tiasal whimpered softly in Elan's arms. The bard kept on muttering things like 'Thank the gods you're okay,' 'Why were you in the middle of a fire?' and 'I love you, I love you, I love you…'_

_Tiasal trembled, snuggling closer to her uncle. "I… I only meant to make the leaves on the lake burn a little… to see if the fire would go out…"_

_Aarindarius looked over at her, frowning. Something flickered in his face. Something akin to worry and fear._

_It was gone in a moment. _

_"This was not your doing, little one. I haven't taught you anything that could cause this." _

_She could see in his eyes that he was thinking. He was hiding something._

_"And you can't use any magic outside of what you learn." _

---

"By the Dark One, I'm going to be sick."

The youngest brother turned away from the scrying pool, slamming his hand against the floor, body shaking with fury. "Damn it! This is all my fault! Tiasal's at the mercy of a pedophile and Big Brother is Xykon's slave! This is _all my fault!_"

"Calm down for a second. Let me think." The eldest brother averted his eyes from the pool, trying to keep from seeing his younger brother being silently mutilated. His hands clenched, claws digging into his palms. "Little Brother is forced to listen to that bastard because Sister's soul is locked in a sapphire and—"

Youngest brother looked up, body still shaking slightly. "Sister is up here with us."

"No, I mean Vaarsuvius. She and Little Brother are practically married, which means she's practically our sister." He looked down at the ground, scowling. "I figured I should get used to the idea before I accidentally screw up my relationship with another family member." Eldest brother turned away from the scrying pool completely, unable to handle the images shown even in his peripheral vision. "Anyway, she's trapped in a sapphire and our niece is in trouble, on top of the fact that she's a manipulative little girl."

The youngest brother frowned darkly. "Don't insult her, Eldest Brother. She's misguided." He clenched his fists. "Just misguided."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not about to blame little kids for being angry when they overhear their whole dead family calling them disgusting for being half-and-half." He took a moment to look off to the side awkwardly, shame-faced. "But you have to admit, Youngest Brother—it's a little scary how well she already knows how to manipulate people. She's got a high Charisma score. That, and she went over to Xykon a little too enthusiastically." He was quiet for a long time. "I don't want to see any more of my family members killing each other."

Youngest brother fidgeted, looking away. "Neither do I." He sighed softly, struggling to calm himself. He couldn't help his niece or his brother if he was debilitated by his fury at himself. "So what are we going to do?"

Eldest brother took a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then breathed out. Technically, he didn't have to breathe, but he found that it helped him think. "I think I may have an idea, but we need to make sure we're backed up. Our niece hates us both right now, but that doesn't mean that she won't be willing to listen to reason." He looked over at his youngest brother. "Get Uncle. Not Dad—he and Mom are still having trouble with the elf thing—but Uncle understands. And do you think Ali and Ridi are up for a hike to the mortal planes?"

"I'll ask." He glanced down again. "After I check on Tiasal. Maybe she'll be willing to let me show myself this time and I'll be able to get her to see sense." He was gone.

---

Xykon pulled back his phalanges, sticky with blood, and a chuckle reverberated inside his ribcage. Redcloak gingerly wiped the blood from his face, careful to keep from touching the wound the lich had left, stifling the sounds growing in his throat at the pain.

"Go put on something to cover that thing up. Can't have you scaring the runts. I'm pretty sure someone left your eye patch in your pocket or something…"

Redcloak slowly reached in his pocket, pulling out a familiar black patch. He put it on obediently, trying to wipe away the last of the blood.

"Your room's down the hall to the left. You're going to start researching spells tomorrow."

The goblin nodded, standing up shakily and stealing one last look at the lich's necklace before leaving. Vaarsuvius. He missed his elf so much…

Fifteen years. Fifteen years away from his wife and daughter. Vaarsuvius was still trapped in that little stone.

There was the shuffle of feet and a stifled yelp of surprise. Redcloak had to turn his head to compensate for his lost eye and see a terrified little human boy, a bucket held tightly in his hands, his eyes wide and fixed on the goblin. One of the servant kids.

The goblin couldn't stop the sour taste in his mouth. He had started this. He had never meant for kids to get involved. Where were that boy's parents? Were they worried about him?

For once, the goblin could actually understand that fear.

He made a silent gesture down the hall, for want of anything else to do. "Hurry to bed."

The little boy obliged, his bucket rattling in his hands and the water held within sloshing. Redcloak started towards the direction Xykon had told him to go again.

Redcloak didn't remember his time in the sapphire very well—the most he got when thinking about it were vague impressions and a snatched indistinct moment or two. But he _did_ know that he was fully aware while in there. Was Vaarsuvius fully aware? Fifteen years… Was Vaarsuvius changed? Damaged? He prayed to the Dark One that his wife be okay. His elf had suffered through so much… don't make Vaarsuvius suffer insanity too.

He slipped into the room Xykon had indicated silently, closing the door behind him. He only took the time to take off his armor before he went into the bed.

There was an achingly empty spot next to him.

"Vaarsuvius…" Redcloak closed his remaining eye, curling up to stay warm. He sent up a fervent prayer to the Dark One that his daughter be safe and his wife be unharmed. He wouldn't be able to survive losing another person he loved. That pain he felt the day Vaarsuvius died and he had to leave Tiasal… it was still raw in his heart. His only consolation was that his daughter was alive and Vaarsuvius could be resurrected.

_"I love you. Please remember that…"_

He let out a soft whimper, holding onto those words and trying to use them to fill the hole that Vaarsuvius's death had left inside. If only he had been faster… If only he had been cleverer… If only he had never made that thrice-damned deal with Xykon in the first place…

But 'if only' wouldn't help anyone anymore.

He would just need to figure out how to save his wife's soul and his child's innocence. He would do it somehow. He refused to accept the alternative.

He fell asleep praying.

---

_"Tiasal, I'm sorry that I haven't been here. I'm going to try to make it up to you, okay? Somehow."_

He had been earnest. She didn't see any intent to deceive in his eyes, and though it was obvious that he knew how to hide how he felt, he didn't seem to be trying, save for the transparent attempt to hide the tears. Had she made a premature judgment because of what Xykon said? Neither of them were lying. One of them had to be.

She had met her father for the first time that day. He said her name. He promised to make up those fifteen years.

He said goodnight to her for the first time.

_"Hey, kid."_

_Tiasal turned around sharply, staring at the newly-arrived Xykon, her hand only brushing against the doorknob that led to the children's common room. _

_"Nice job with Reddy, but we're not done yet." Xykon crossed his arms, eyes glowing bright. "You need to try to stay sympathetic for him to stay obedient. He's going to want to meet with you a lot. Now, your crazy cleric doesn't want you and him to bond too much, so let's keep this our little secret."_

_He leaned forward until their faces were inches from each other. "You're going to figure out someway of making contact with him. He'll jump at the opportunity to talk with you. Keep meeting up with him 'in secret' and make sure he knows you're a vulnerable little girl who needs his help. You'll have him on strings."_

_Tiasal frowned, averting her gaze._

_"Oh, you think he actually was feeling something with that whole display he made?" Xykon drew away. "If you want to keep up your fantasies, fine. Don't let them get in the way of what's important. You have nowhere to go. Goblin and elf hybrids don't have a place in the world." He started away. "Give him a note or something tomorrow."_

_He left._

"Clash. I want you to stay out here. Leaves, go to my room. The rest of you, have a good night's sleep."

Leaves looked down and shuffled quietly to the cleric's room. Tiasal fidgeted in place as all the other children brushed past each other and filed into the bedroom, still thinking too hard to really pay attention. Soon, she was alone with the cleric. Had she been a little less innocent, or had Aarindarius been teaching her for a few more years, she would have known why this was a bad thing. But she didn't.

The cleric stood up from his chair slowly, his joints popping audibly, and walked to the cabinet kept under the table. He took out a small key from his pocket, opening the doors, revealing rows and rows of… syringes?

"Sit down, little one." He picked up one of the needles, holding it up and checking for air bubbles. "This will only take a moment."

Tiasal's eyes went wide, her thoughts and doubts being whisked up in her mind to be reviewed at a safer time, and she slowly backed away.

"Clash, do not make me ask you again."

A warning throb of imaginary pain shot through the little girl, reminding her of the reason why she so often couldn't sit down properly. She hadn't completely healed from the beating she had gotten two days ago—she didn't want another one.

She tentatively went down on her knees on the ground, staring at the older man warily. She wondered what her father would do if he were here. Would he stop the cleric and hold her like her aunts and uncles always did and kiss her hair like Aarindarius? Would he tell her to stay still for the needle? Would he be silent?

Who was this man that she was supposed to manipulate?

Did she even want to use him anymore?

Xykon may not have always been kind to her, but he had always been honest. For now, she trusted his word more than her father's. He and her mother had only been a glorified sperm donor and incubator unit so far in her life, and while it wasn't completely their fault that that was true, it didn't give her reason to trust anything they said.

Her rationalizations were cut short when the cleric pulled out a strip of thin rubber, tying it around her bicep tightly. Tiasal squirmed, frowning in confusion.

"I just need it to find a vein. It will only take a moment."

Tiasal squirmed, trying to stifle whimpers of fear when he brandished the needle, an unknown yellow liquid within. Her veins were popping out like the paths on a map. Her skin was getting a weird brown-red hue. Something in her head was screaming for her to leave immediately.

He curled his fingers around her wrist and jabbed the needle in one of the popped-up paths, squeezing out all the liquid the syringe had inside.

He pulled the needle out and undid the rubber tourniquet, smiling. "Only a moment."

Tiasal jerked away, looking down at her arm at the little marble of blood that was welling up. She licked it gently, trying to stop the bleeding for want of a Band-Aid. What had he put in her? She wanted to know, but doubted that she would get an honest answer.

He turned away and opened the door of the cabinet next to the one with full syringes, revealing a disposal for used ones. He put the needle he just used in there. "I only use it for the little boys and girls who misbehave." He closed the cabinet door, looking up and smiling. "Be a good girl and don't struggle and I'll give you another dose in the morning."

Tiasal frowned in confusion.

That was when her brain was sent into a tailspin.

Thought was gone, what little left disconnected. She was enveloped in a cloud. Happy. So happy. Happier than ever. More scared than ever.

Coppery taste bloomed on tongue, filling mouth with iron. Smiling face of cleric swam over vision. Hands picking her up. World floating away. Didn't care what he did. So wonderful. Couldn't control self. Couldn't control thought. No control…

Fear.

What was happening?

Cleric sat down.

Put on his lap.

Lights shined brighter, colors obvious in them. No physical discomfort available. All gone.

Blood dribbled from needle mark. Didn't care. Didn't care about anything.

Started to be rubbed against something hard. Huh. Didn't know what it could be.

"By the Dark One… Tiasal!"

World tinted yellow. Fingers on waist bruising. Person standing in front. Hands clenched. Claws digging in skin. Eye blazing. Knew him. Knew him.

"YOU HUMAN BASTARD!"

Why was he angry? There was nothing to be angry about.

Clawed hand swiped at cleric's face. Hand went through it. Incorporeal. Can't do anything. Why was he angry?

"DAMN YOU!"

More harmless swipes. "DAMN YOU TO HELL! LET HER GO!"

Looked up. Smiled. Reached for him. "Uncle, why are you so angry?"

"Tia?!"

He kneels down. Cups her face. Gold eye go wide. "My God… your eyes… what did he do to you?!"

Touching. Could feel his hands. Was she dying? That was okay. She was okay with dying.

Gold eye flick down. Focus on blood on arm. "He _drugged_ you?!"

What did that mean? Oh well. There wasn't anything to be sad about anymore. Nothing to be angry about, nothing to be scared about, nothing to be upset about…

"And I can't _do_ anything! DAMN IT!" Hands clench. Shoulders shake. "Damn it…"

Little hands reach out. Cup dark green face gently. Kiss his forehead sweetly. "It's okay, Uncle. Nothing to be angry about anymore."

Gold eye focuses on her face. Looks hopeless. Closes. "Tia… it's not fair… why you?"

Emerald hand rests on back of little head. Draws her close. Lets her rest face in green neck. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that he's doing this to you, and I can't stop him. I'm sorry that I used you. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to do much of anything to help you all this time… You're a kid. You need your only family to love you without ulterior motives." Strokes her hair. Low growl in chest. "I promise that Brother and I will make this human pay for what he's doing. And I promise to treat you how you should be treated from now on." Kisses her head. "I love you."

Smiles. Why was he apologizing? Was she angry at him? If she was, she didn't remember why.

Nuzzles neck. "Love you too, Uncle."

His chest hitched.

Cleric made odd sound.

Hard thing gone. Clothes a little wet. Taken off lap. "Go to bed, little one. I think it best that Xykon doesn't find out about this."

Stumbles a little. Almost fell over once or twice. Sense of balance gone. Uncle takes hand and leads her to door. Didn't fall with him.

Stumbles to blankets. Uncle disappears.

Doesn't sleep.

Trances.

---

_"You are learning fast, little one." _

_Tiasal looked up from the Go board, smiling at the familiar scarred face of one of her family's oldest friends. One of the only people that made her like to talk. "Thank you." _

_"It does not surprise me. Your mother was quite intelligent, as was your father." _

_O-Chul looked down at the board thoughtfully, figuring out his next move. _

_"O-Chul, what was my mother like?" _

_The paladin arched an eyebrow, putting down one white piece. He smiled under his beard. "You have asked me this question many times, and I have always given you the same answer, little one."_

_Tiasal shrugged, grinning with an almost impish quality and putting down one of her own pieces. "What was she like?"_

_"She was a proud warrior." O-Chul gave her a once-over with his eyes. "You look very much like her. Far from a copy, but I see her in you. She had the power to defend an entire Azure City wall, nearly single-handedly, for almost the entirety of the Battle for Azure City. She then managed to hide Xykon's phylactery with me after being forced to endure one of the most savage beatings I have ever witnessed. And she continued to adventure and fight, even while pregnant with you, Tiasal-chan. She was strong, proud, and noble." O-Chul gave a small smile. "And she was clever. Were it not for her, I would not be alive today and Xykon may have been the ruler of the world." He put down his piece. "I regret that I did not know her better."_

_"Did you know my father?"_

_O-Chul paused. "…You have not asked that particular question before."_

_Tiasal's eyes narrowed only slightly as she put down her piece, looking up at the paladin and smiling. "Did you?"_

_"…" O-Chul studied the game board. "Not well. We were on opposite sides of the conflict."_

_"But you knew him. He had you prisoner, didn't he?"_

_O-Chul looked up, frowning, unwilling to speak ill of the dead, especially to the child. "How do you know that, Tiasal-chan? I have never told you."_

_"You don't need to be told stuff to know." Tiasal cocked her head expectantly._

_O-Chul stared at her for a moment, then sighed softly, putting a piece down. "He… Your father did have me as a prisoner, yes. We conversed, but it was mostly about his wanting information he thought I had. I cannot say that I know him enough to describe him." _…in positive terms.

_Tiasal's eyes ran along the scars all over the paladin's face. She had seen a picture of him in the Sapphire Guard a few months before the Battle for Azure City. He had only had one scar there. Were all those scars her father's doing?_

_She put a piece down. _

_"Would I be proud to be his daughter?"_

_There was a pause. "Tiasal-chan, love and family should not be about alignment. He loved your mother. He loved you. If he were alive today, I do not have a doubt in my mind that he would be happy that he was your father and would be making every effort to be a good one. Whatever I may think of him, he was a clever and determined man, and though he was very Lawful, he was passionate." O-Chul smiled ruefully, lightly tousling the little girl's hair. "I think that it's not a matter of pride but of love. And you would have loved him."_

_He put down his piece. "You allowed yourself to be surrounded." _

_He took her pieces in one hand and put down his own. _


	9. Chapter 9

_"No, no, it's like this!" _

_The half-outsider picked up the pair of dice, letting them both fall on the multi-layered board. "You see? Twelve. That means that I get to move up or down four times."_

_"This makes no sense!" Abram shook his head, staring incredulously at the little outsider figurines. "We've been at this for two hours—can't we go outside and play badminton or something?" _

_Terentius lay on his back with his little sister on his stomach, dark fingers gently running through soft purple hair. "Tia's fallen asleep." _

_"Good. We can wake her when it's her turn. Two more hours from now," Octavius grumbled, stretching impatiently. _

_"It's a game about basic math and advanced theological philosophy! It's not that hard! Come on, I'll explain it again…" _

_Everyone let out a groan. _

---

Tiasal woke up shaking. She was wrapped up in a blanket, but her core was freezing and her muscles were giving off spasms without reason. Cold sweat rolled down her face, blotches of black invading her eyes, and she could do little more than whimper as aches crawled up and down her bones, locking in with strong arms and sharp teeth. She wanted something. Needed something.

She felt like she was sick again, only worse than the times she had been sick in her field. In her field, Durkon would just cast a spell and she would be better after a day of Aunt Celia giving her soup. This was horrible. This was her own body rebelling, demanding something that she didn't know how to give. Hallucinations rippled through her senses like water. The sight of thousands of people staring at her. The scent of flowers, wine, honey, and motherhood tickling the tip of her nose. The salty taste of blood coating her teeth. The feel of an adult's arms wrapped gently around her torso, his body curled protectively against hers. The sound of someone whispering in her ear about how she would be okay, that it was unpleasant but she would be okay…

Someone tied something around her bicep and there was a sharp pain on the inside of her elbow.

The chills left. So did the weird sensations. She was in the stone room and children were milling towards the door, some still in blankets with needles and some on their beds with swollen bellies.

Swift was sitting next to her, a used needle in his hand. He gingerly put it to the side, taking the rubber band off of Tiasal's arm.

"Ms. Tsukiko told us to make sure you had your braids…" he mumbled softly, avoiding eye contact and picking up a brush he had laid aside.

Tiasal gave a terse nod, frowning curiously at the needle and turning so the boy could fix her hair.

"D-don't worry. I gave you a low dosage. Keeps the withdrawal symptoms away but doesn't make you fuzzy. If you're good for Master, he'll keep giving you the doses you need. He… he uses it for the kids who misbehave a lot…"

Tiasal's frown deepened, and she searched her memory for how she started this needle thing. She couldn't remember. The night before was just a blur.

That did not bode well.

"And… uh, I have a change of clothes for you…"

Tiasal looked down at her clothes in confusion, noting that the seat of her pants had some white stuff on it. That was weird. Was it flour? No, it wasn't right for flour…

Suspicion was roused within. She didn't like this.

Swift tightened her hair before pulling it into the restrictive braids, tying them at the end.

"You should change."

Tiasal glanced back at him, narrowing her eyes before she took the offered clothes, standing up and changing right there.

"You should be happy, you know. He went easy on you." Swift subconsciously rubbed his bottom gently. "And, um…" he looked away, mumbling, "be careful when you're outside tending the courtyard. Some people are a little angry that he hasn't touched you much."

Tiasal cocked her head in confusion, then shrugged. She didn't really care. She wasn't afraid of the servant kids. (She was a little curious about the touching thing, but oh well. He was probably talking about the beatings.)

"Lord Xykon wishes to see you."

She nodded absently. It was time for her lessons, anyway. He would probably get her to try slaughtering some of the animals on the edges of the forest. He hopefully had enough sense to not send her deep inside—there were seriously high-powered monsters there. Enough to give the woman with the dragon tattoo trouble.

She concentrated for a moment on the glassy surface of the used syringe on the ground, trying to summon the image of what had occurred the night before. The glass remained reflecting the mundane stone ceiling.

"He's, uh, in the throne room."

Tiasal nodded and started towards the door.

"Yesterday was the first time you saw your dad, right?"

Tiasal looked back, frowning, but Swift looked just as shocked as she. Yet he didn't take back his question.

There was a silence.

She nodded slowly.

Swift bit his lip. "What was it like?"

She was quiet for another long moment before shrugging and turning away.

"Oh." He looked down. "Well, um, I hope it goes better next time." Tiasal opened the door and Swift seemed to hesitate. "…I hope it goes better, Deirdre."

Tiasal took only a moment to glance back confusedly before leaving.

In the back of her head, memories stirred, then lay back dormant.

---

Redcloak took off his bloody shirt, breathing heavily, and placed his hand on his chest. "Cure Serious Wounds."

As his injuries healed up, he pulled on a different shirt, slipping on his armor over it and clasping his cloak around his neck. He should have expected that Xykon would want him to level-grind after such a long death, but this was a lot for a newly brought-back body to deal with.

Luckily, he was back in his study and was only expected to do paperwork now. Admittedly extremely hard paperwork that included research about how to control a being of pure chaos, but still, papers usually didn't grow claws and rip people apart. Usually.

He sat down slowly at his desk, frowning at the papers already strewn across it. He had to admit that their 'host's' library was surprisingly expansive—he wondered how books of such rarity came here—but the mere thought of being grateful to the child-raping bastard for _anything_ made his blood boil.

Vaarsuvius, had the elf been there, would have simply blasted the monster, picked up Tiasal, and run away. Redcloak wished he could do that, but he was too caught up with the consequences. Xykon wouldn't let them get away. Tiasal would be hurt. _His daughter_ would be hurt.

He had to do his best to make sure that that never happened.

Redcloak frowned at the papers, lightly pulling one of them from the pile and scanning it for relevancy. It was about epic-level spells. It was possible that there was something he could use.

He didn't know how long he was looking through those papers for when he heard someone open the door behind him. He ignored it, figuring it to be Tsukiko and expecting some jibes.

Someone came up on his blind side and set a tray of food carefully on one of the paperless spots. Redcloak shied away in surprise—after all this time working with it, he hated people coming up on his right side—and turned his head to compensate for the lost half of his vision.

He froze.

Tiasal looked up at him, gave a small nod, and turned to leave. He was shocked into stillness so long that she was almost gone.

"Wait!"

She paused and Redcloak jumped up, his heart pounding in his ears and words tumbling out without thought behind them. "Is there anyone waiting for you?"

She hesitated, then made a small 'I've got a minute' gesture.

Redcloak had no idea what to say, but he kept talking anyway. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to know everything about her life. He didn't want his baby to leave again. "Have they hurt you?"

Tiasal shrugged and he knelt down slowly, tentatively putting his hands on her little shoulders. She felt so fragile, as if the smallest bit of pressure from him could break her bones to pieces. He wanted to hug her. He wanted to pick her up, put her in his lap, and talk as though he had been there her whole life. He wanted to have those fifteen years with his family that Xykon had stolen.

He couldn't have that.

"Does it hurt to talk?"

She hesitated.

"…A little."

Her voice sounded a little like sandpaper, but his heart swelled nonetheless, ears perking to listen harder. It didn't sound like she spoke a lot. If she used it more often, he didn't have a doubt that her voice would be beautiful.

"I don't talk a lot."

Redcloak nodded, frowning, at a loss for what to say. "Why not?"

She shifted, clasping her hands in front of her. "…" She shrugged. "…I don't like it when people lie."

Redcloak cocked his head, a smile flickering over his lips, and he blurted out the first thing to come to his mind. "You sound like your mother."

Her ears twitched, perking, and swiveled so that they faced him.

"She hated it when people were dishonest. Especially if she couldn't tell the difference." Redcloak slowly sat down in a more comfortable position and the little girl crept forward, ears twitching. "It used to drive her crazy when we first met that I treated her civilly while still being an enemy. She thought that I wasn't making myself easy to categorize."

Tiasal crept closer.

Redcloak looked her up and down, memories of Vaarsuvius and that one snatch of time he had had with his newborn running through his head. The only two women who had been able to make him cry in his entire adult life.

"I don't think you like it either. Not being able to categorize me, I mean. You're like your mother."

Tiasal sat slowly in his lap, ears swiveling to hear him better. Redcloak's heart swelled and he loosely wrapped his arms around the little girl, noting that she was tense, but not as tense as she was the moment before.

"Who have you been raised by all these years?"

The girl rolled her shoulders, pulling at her braids uncomfortably. "The Order."

He nodded slowly. Three humans, a dwarf, and a psychopathic halfling. Not ideal, but definitely better than the alternatives. For non-goblins, they were okay.

He absently pulled her braids loose, letting her hair out in its fluffy glory and running his fingers through it. It was just as soft and fine as Vaarsuvius's. He missed his wife.

She seemed relieved to have her hair loose again.

"Do they treat you well?"

Tiasal hesitated, studying him, and slowly nodded. "Your eye…"

"Oh, that." Redcloak turned his head a little so the patch was harder to see. "Don't worry. I had it before I died. Xykon wanted me to have it again."

She was quiet, eyes studious.

"Don't think about it. He just likes being cruel." Redcloak stroked her hair, running it in between his fingers. It was so soft. Just like her mother's.

"Who are you?"

Redcloak paused, then blinked in confusion. "I'm… I'm your father."

"No. _Who_ are you? Not what."

The goblin frowned thoughtfully, running his fingers through the little girl's hair.

"The Order never told me."

Redcloak nodded slowly, trying to think of what to say.

Well, he wasn't about to lie to his own daughter. He had gotten her in this situation. He owed her the truth. "They probably didn't want you to think badly of your own father."

Her ears perked slowly.

"How much did they tell you?"

The door swung open and Tiasal jerked in surprise, Redcloak instinctively tightening his grip firmly around the little girl and looking up, frowning darkly.

His expression got positively vicious when he saw who ambled in slowly.

"Clash, you are slacking."

Tiasal winced, subconsciously burrowing into Redcloak's chest and letting out a soft whimper without meaning to. Master leaned on a cane he seemed to have picked up somewhere, frowning disapprovingly at her. "You don't want to be slacking, do you?"

Redcloak heard the threat in the old man's voice, a growl beginning deep in his chest.

But he couldn't do anything. He would scare his daughter and Xykon would set the cleric on her.

Only one thing to do.

He forced a smile, still running his fingers lovingly through purple strands. "I'm sorry, this was my fault. I got a little greedy about spending time with her and wouldn't let her go. I'm sure that she'll be excused from any punishment."

He put an underlying threat to his tone, making sure that the cleric knew that he wasn't the only one who had power. Redcloak gently brushed his lips against his daughter's hairline. "Alright, Tiasal. We'll continue this conversation later, okay?"

She looked up at him, for once not having that studious expression. She blinked her thanks and gave him a tentative smile. "Okay… Dad."

He bit his lip and ruffled her hair, allowing her to get up and scamper out of the room.

His heart ached and he fought the urge to call her back. He could have all the time he wanted with his little girl when he had figured out how to release Vaarsuvius and escape with her. He had to focus on keeping her safe. He could be separated from her if it meant his baby was safe.

Master turned to go.

"I need to talk to you for a moment."

The cleric looked at the goblin, frowning, as Redcloak stood up and brushed himself off. The only indicator of Redcloak's feelings was a hard expression. "Close the door. I don't want my daughter or any of the children here listening to this."

The cleric narrowed his eyes, but slowly did as was told, pushing the door closed. "You seemed a little snuggled with her." A smirk carved itself into his face. "She's a pretty little girl. Do what you know you want to. Every good father does."

Redcloak resisted the urge to slash the monster across the face, and instead, he just sneered. "You're a sick bastard who just deludes himself into thinking that everyone is just as twisted as you." He crossed his arms, one eye narrowed into a gold chip. "The only reason I'm not going to kill you where you stand is because Xykon would hurt my daughter if I did. But, even with my lengthy death, I'm still a much higher level than you. If you touch her, I will guarantee that you will sincerely regret it."

The cleric paused, quietly contemplating his cane. For a moment, Redcloak didn't think he would respond. "She's a very pretty little girl. Very quiet, though." He rubbed his chin and the goblin tensed, anticipating something he would get angry at. "The little ones always bleed the first time. Most scream. I don't think that she will scream. She'll stay silent and then cry later." The cleric stroked his cane, beady eyes distant. "She'll be interesting to break."

The cleric found himself slammed against the wall and then thrown to the floor, claws slashing straight through his face. He shouted in pain, covering his face but unwilling to heal it just yet for fear of getting his attacker angrier. Redcloak loomed over him, eye glowing furiously and claws dripping with his blood.

"Stay the _hell_ _away_ from _my daughter._"

Redcloak slashed with his other hand, crisscrossing his last cuts. The cleric let out a warbling shout, holding his hands to his face and trying to stop the bleeding.

The goblin growled, clamping his hand around the man's throat and forcing him to stand. "If you touch her, then I will make you pay in blood. Got it?"

Sticky red dripped down the cleric's face, staining his clothes in macabre punctuation of the real threat the goblin was dealing.

"…I understand."

"Good."

Redcloak threw the cleric down. "Get yourself cleaned up. Those kids suffer enough without seeing _your_ bloodied mug looking like it just came out of a horror show."

He stalked out.

It took a while for the cleric to do the same.

---

Tiasal frowned at the shovel in her hand, then at the giant snow-covered courtyard before dropping her tool. The stone paths were already shoveled, especially around the fountain, and the cleric probably wouldn't notice if she didn't do anything.

Instead, she walked into the woods.

Snow clung to the evergreens, and she had to be careful to walk quietly. Extremely high level monsters lurked in the woods, and she had no desire to be eviscerated. It was stupid that she was out here, but she didn't care. Something was pulling her along.

She came to the edge of a pond, a thin layer of ice on the edges and a thicker layer at the center. She sat at the edge, resting her hand lightly on the top of the thin ice. "Burning Hands."

Her hands melted through the ice and rested on top of the freezing water in little hand-shaped holes.

_"I'm scared to go in."_

_The two boys dived under the water, and Tiasal was afraid for a moment that they had drowned, but both came up quickly, flipping their wet hair out of their eyes. Sun filtered through the leaves and lit up the mildly murky water, making her brothers' chocolate-colored skin glimmer._

_"Don't worry, Tia," Terentius said, swimming slowly to the edge of the pool and smiling at her. "We won't let you drown." He held out a wet hand for his tiny sister to take. _

_Tiasal hesitated, then slowly pulled off her clothes, letting them drop to the ground, and took her brother's hand. "What about if you're not nearby when I'm drowning?"_

_Octavius backstroked to the middle of the pond, grinning. "We're your big brothers, you little Oompa Loompa. No matter what mess you get yourself into, we'll always pull you out."_

_Terentius's eyes sparkled in the sun and he tightened his grip on her hand. "We promise."_

She wasn't going to see her brothers again.

_"Aarindarius?"_

_The wizard looked up from his book, eyes surprised, at the little girl at his door. She was clothed in a thin lavender nightgown—far too thin for the winter weather—and her ankles were scratched and bleeding from walking in the field barefoot. Tangled purple hair hung ragged around her face, and little dark circles were forming under her eyes._

_"It is past midnight, child. You were put to bed over five hours ago." Aarindarius stood up, frowning. "Why have you come here?"_

_"…" The little girl shifted, looking at the wall. "…Nightmare." _

_The wizard was quiet._

_"Oh." He paused, then gestured her closer. "Well, come sit here."_

_She obediently came forward, holding out her arms. The wizard gently picked her up, sitting at his armchair and putting her on his lap. He brushed his lips lightly against the little girl's green forehead, adjusting so they both were comfortable. "You are safe here."_

_Tiasal nodded, resting her head on the wizard's shoulder and taking a breath of his scent. She knew. _

_She dozed off in his arms. _

_When she woke up, she was curled up against her teacher in his bed, and the gentle blush of dawn was only just brushing the sky._

Aarindarius was dead.

_"Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are…"_

_"Sweetie, Tiasal is twelve years old. I think it's a little late for nursery rhymes." _

_Uncle Elan's eyes were practically glowing. "It's never too late for song, as my mom always said! Look, she loves it!"_

_Tiasal smiled endearingly and sat back, waiting for her uncle to sing about the diamonds in the sky. _

Uncle Elan was dead.

_"You don't know how to play the lute?"_

_Tiasal stared at the instrument as if it had grown four legs, then shook her head, looking up at her ten-year-old cousin with a quizzical expression on her face._

_"Neither do I. Don't tell Dad." Abram made an exaggerated shushing motion, then looked around secretively. "Hey, let's go make some cookies. I'll let you eat the dough if you don't tell Mom about how much I eat."_

_Tiasal nodded eagerly and grabbed her cousin's hand. Abram brightened, glancing around mischievously before leaning down and kissing her cheek. "When you're all grown up, I'll keep you hidden up in Aarindarius's tower, where you'll have all the cookie dough you can eat. And no one can have you unless they climb the tower." He pulled her into the kitchen. "And then you'll marry the first guy that can do that."_

_Tiasal grinned. In her youthful mind, little girls grew up to marry their fathers, brothers or cousins. She would be happy if she could marry any of them._

_She quietly daydreamed about which of the men she loved would climb the tower first as Abram searched for ingredients._

Abram was dead.

She wouldn't see Auntie Haley.

Wouldn't see Uncle Roy.

Not Aunt Celia, not her cousins, not Uncle Belkar, not Uncle Durkon, not Inkyrius, not Blackwing, not O-Chul or Hinjo or Lien …

They were all gone. Well and truly gone.

And she never got to say goodbye.

For a moment, she forgot that they hated her. She forgot the resentment, the comments, and the regret. She only remembered the smiles, the love, the warmth, and the kindness.

Tiasal hugged her knees and started to cry, and one by one, she let her family sink into the pond to disappear under the ice.

All the while, a little girl that only Tiasal could see watched and shook her head.


	10. Chapter 10

Octavius was angry. Very angry. But that's how he'd been for years.

He stumbled around the unfamiliar woods blindly, growling, and the branches reached down like dragon claws to grab him. He made sure to snap all the branches in his reach, even if it slowed him down. "T! Come on! Get back!"

The soft sounds of the wildlife murmured around him, shadows getting longer and longer, pink streaking the sky, and clouds wisped through it like smoke. "Parent's going to get worried!" And they both would be lost if they ran around this place too much.

His heart was beating in his ears. It had been a long time since he had been in a forest alone. He could almost hear the beat of dragon wings and sweat trickled down his face. He had to get his brother before the dragon.

Octavius stumbled into a clearing, nearly falling into a pond, and musky smoke curled up from behind him. For a moment, he thought that the dragon was right behind him, ready to blast him with fire. He spun around, seeing his brother leaning on a tree, a burning cigarette between his fingers and his eyes slightly glazed.

His heart flared furiously.

"T, you told me you quit!"

Octavius made a wild swipe for the burning thing in his brother's hand, only to have Terentius expertly dodge, taking another drag. The green-haired elf had always been nimbler than his twin. "Yeah. And I started again. What's it to you?"

"You're going to get lung cancer and die! Do you want to break Parent's heart?!"

"You'd be the one breaking hearts if you tell, Eight." Terentius took another drag, the tip glowing so bright that the image was burned in Octavius's retinas. "Besides, I don't see why I should worry about it. I mean, you're going to eventually get in over your head and get killed, Parent's going to OD on those pills the psychiatrist piles on us, and I'm not going to have anyone left who'll miss me. There's nothing I need to do once you guys are gone, so I can just die."

"You'll still have to take care of T…" Octavius trailed off.

Oh. That's why he started again.

"Exactly." Terentius took another drag, glaring at the pond. "We don't have anyone else to look out for." The homemade cigarette burned away and he promptly took out another one from his pocket, taking a match from the same place and lighting it. "You remember when we taught her how to swim?"

"T, I don't want to talk about it."

Terentius took a drag, taking the cigarette out only to blow out a cloud of musky smoke, giving Octavius an impression of dragons that made his heart race, and the green-haired elf stuffed his lighter in his pocket. "We promised that we would help her out of whatever trouble she was in. _I_ promised that." He leaned back further on the tree, his eyes red and leaking tears, the cigarette squashed in between his fingers. "I broke it."

"T, shut up. Just shut up." Octavius raised his fist, ready to hit his brother. "Shut up now."

"Why? You know, we haven't talked about her once. Haven't even said her name." Terentius took a drag and closed his eyes for a moment, just letting the tears roll and gather at his chin, dropping to the ground. "You want us to act like she never existed, Eight. Well, she did. And even if you're not sad, I am."

"SHUT UP!"

Octavius punched Terentius in the jaw, sending the green haired teenager to the ground, the cigarette still firmly between his lips.

"SHUT UP!"

He kicked his brother's stomach.

"SHUT UP!"

He grabbed a rock from the ground and raised it, eyes zeroing in on his twin's skull. Terentius didn't move to go away, instead, just smoking. "Go ahead. Do it."

Octavius froze.

He had just been about to kill his brother.

Octavius threw the rock away, face red. "Go back home."

"Oh yeah, home sounds great. Parent's strung out on antidepressants and crying in the kitchen. Do you have any idea how many times I've heard Parent calling out for Other Parent or Ti—"

"GO HOME!"

He started kicking again, and Terentius flinched away, scrambling up and slipping back into the forest before his brother cracked a rib. Whether he was going back home or not, Octavius didn't care.

_"What about if you're not nearby when I'm drowning?"_

_ "We're your big brothers, you little Oompa Loompa. No matter what mess you get yourself into, we'll always pull you out."_

_ "We promise."_

The words bounced around in his head like some mantra of guilt.

No. No, he didn't have to think about it. It was over. No need to think.

He was shaking. His walls had already crumbled from Terentius's assault. He couldn't stop thinking anymore.

Tiasal was dead.

His baby sister had needed him and he hadn't been there.

Numbness protected him for a moment. It wore away.

He let out a wounded howl, dropping to his knees at the edge of the pond. Once the tears started flowing, they wouldn't stop. His baby sister was dead. His silent Oompa Loompa.

And he hadn't even told her that he loved her.

He let out another furious shriek and started crying in earnest.

A half a mile away in each direction, his parent and brother were doing the same thing.

---

Tiasal came back to the Master's rooms when her muscles started clenching and she broke out into cold sweat.

She swung the door open, biting her lip in spasms and scratching hard at the needle marks on the inside of her elbow, suddenly feeling as though bugs were crawling beneath her skin. A familiar whispering in her ear was pleading with her to find her father and run away, and she could almost swear that Right-Eye was at her side, but she couldn't see him and if she had been able to, she would have tried to rip out his other eye, insubstantiality notwithstanding.

The room was empty, and there was furious shouting from where the children were supposed to sleep. The cleric didn't seem to be very happy. Probably because Tiasal was late.

Tiasal winced, flares of pain shooting through her thighs and bums in preparation, and she walked to the cupboard she saw the needles come out of, noting that it hadn't been locked up yet.

Fingers shaking, she pulled it open, pulling out one of the needles that looked like they had only a little liquid in them and wrapping a rubber band around her bicep the way Swift had. Her veins popped out like ropes, and she tried to stab one of them with the needle. With all of the tremors in her hand, it took three tries before she actually got a vein.

She let the liquid out and slumped quietly, waiting for the tremors to go away.

The floor started to shake with footsteps. Tiasal grabbed one of the unused needles and stuffed it away in the pockets of her clothes. She wanted one just incase.

The door slammed open, and Tiasal got a brief glimpse of frightened children in their room before Master lumbered out, rage making him look years younger and more threatening, eyes blazing.

"Threaten me, will he?! I'll show _him_ blood payment!"

His eyes were glowing red and divine magic sparked from his fingers as he glared down at Tiasal, reaching down and grasping her shirt in a stone hard fist. "GET INTO MY ROOM NOW!"

An alarm was tripped in Tiasal's drug-addled brain. She didn't contain common sense, only instinct. Instinct told her to either fight or fly.

She turned heel and sprinted away so fast that her shirt was ripped apart from the cleric's grip.

"**GET BACK HERE!**"

Her feet hadn't lost the swiftness they had had in the field and the forest. They sent her speeding, but the cleric must have cast a spell because, despite his age, he was running after her. She quickened her pace, but it didn't seem to help at all and she was soon struggling to breathe deep.

Fingers grasped at the ends of her hair, yanking some of it out of her scalp. She couldn't bring herself to run faster. Even despite her pounding heart and her instinct screaming at her to keep fleeing, the drug moved through her system like oil, coaxing her to slow down and give in. Really, she was only making it worse for herself. It's not like she could get help. No one would save her. And really, how bad was a beating? Just a few lashes. He'd just give her a few lashes for being late and running away.

She was ready to stop.

_"Oh, I don't think you should stop running. It's good for you, after all."_

Tiasal looked up in confusion at a semi-translucent spectral elf running besides her, wild long purple hair that matched Tiasal's blowing back like fire and violet eyes sparking with concealed determination, the source of which Tiasal couldn't name.

_"If you keep it up, you'll find safety soon."_

Tiasal looked to her other side, seeing another semi-translucent dead elf running besides her, only with blue hair and fiery orange eyes. _"He won't hurt you if you just run a little longer."_

_"It's a game, you see?"_ Now the purple-haired elf was talking. _"If you run long enough and don't get tagged, you win, and the slime-ball won't be able to hurt you without your consent." _

_"We'll help you cheat in the game."_ The blue-haired elf held out his hand at the same time as the purple-haired elf. _"We won't tell if you won't."_

_"Just take our hands."_

The cleric made another swipe at her hair, his ragged breathing audible.

Tiasal grabbed the ghostly elves' hands and then she flew.

The wild scent of the forest and ever-expanding love breezed past as the elves ran with her, step by step, stride matched with stride, one. The cleric let out a furious shout, but Tiasal put her faith in these strangers to make good on their promise of safety.

Up ahead, Redcloak was making his way out of his study, a closed book nestled in the crook of his arm, and he looked up in confusion at the noise. Tiasal whizzed close, instinctively grinding to a halt and clamping hard against his side, hiding behind him and clinging like a koala. Redcloak glanced down at her quizzically, trying to puzzle out why she had apparently popped out of thin air shirtless and decided to use him as a shield, but when he looked up to see the cleric coming to a stop, his expression became deadly.

The two elves had disappeared.

The cleric panted softly, glaring at the goblin, and slowly straightened. "Lovely. A wonderful little attempt at staving off bedtime. Please give her to me—she still needs to brush her teeth."

"Why is my daughter running away from you without her shirt on?"

The cleric's eyes narrowed and he clacked his cane on the ground, leaning on it and catching his breath. "It tore off. Quite accidentally, I assure you."

"Tore off. Sure."

A growl was growing in her father's chest, and Tiasal instinctively tightened her grip on him, trying to communicate that the cleric hadn't just wanted to put her in bed.

He seemed to get the message. He looked like he was about to hit the cleric, but he just glanced back down at his daughter and twisted his finger in her hair gently. "You can leave now. I'll keep her tonight, and you can be certain of Xykon hearing about this."

"You can't take her away." The cleric hobbled forward, beady eyes narrow and glaring up at the goblin. "She's mine more than she is yours. Xykon will let me have her head if you take her away."

Tiasal could feel her father stiffen, but his face became a wrathful combination of red and green.

His knee came up, ramming the cleric between his legs with so much force that the human was in the air for a moment.

The cleric's eyes bugged out for a second and he fell to the floor, clutching the affected area and mouth opening and shutting with nothing coming out. He had stopped breathing, and he was curled in a fetal position, unable to do anything.

"I don't think I've ever done that to a man before. Good thing you're not a man." Redcloak sneered and picked up Tiasal, letting her wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

He turned away from the cleric and started walking down the hall, still growling softly.

"I thought that you're not supposed to do that," was the first thing Tiasal said. It was true. Whenever she tried that in a tussle with her brothers or male cousins, they were on the ground forever and all the adults gave her long lectures about how she was never allowed to do that to guys.

"It's a really cheap shot, but I figured it'd be the fastest way to get him down. You should never do it, except in his case." Redcloak hugged his daughter close, savoring the feel of her skin against his cheek. "In fact, if he ever asks you to take off your clothes again, kick him right there and run. If you do it hard enough, maybe he'll get sterile."

Tiasal frowned quizzically, but didn't inquire further.

"What did he do to you?"

The growl was still in his chest. Something told Tiasal's drug-addled brain that he wanted a full and complete answer.

"He wanted me to go to his room after I came back late from chores. I thought he would beat me again. I ran away and my shirt was ripped off."

"That's everything?"

That, and he gave her those needles… "Yeah."

Redcloak was quiet for a moment. "You're not going to spend another night with him. I promise."

Tiasal nodded absently, ready to rest her face in her father's neck and doze, but a little girl walking beside him made her pause. He was trying to trick her.

Not necessarily. He could just be deluded. He didn't show any signs of trying to lie.

Xykon had never lied to her and Xykon said that Redcloak hated her.

One could hate while caring.

But no one would ever care about her. They all hated her. She knew that.

Tiasal frowned, looking away from the little girl on the ground and tightening her grip on the goblin.

Redcloak opened the door to his room, revealing a desk with papers stacked on it, a wardrobe, a door to a bathroom, and a queen-sized bed. He put the little girl down slowly. "It's late. Too late for a kid your age to be up. Go and get ready for bed and I'll see if I can find a shirt you can sleep in."

Tiasal nodded, scampering to the bathroom. Redcloak took a moment to stare after her, trying to make sense of what was happening. His little girl had almost been raped. Now, for the first time in fifteen years, he had her to himself.

His hands were shaking a little as he opened his wardrobe and pulled out a shirt that Xykon or Tsukiko must have supplied. It was his size, but on Tiasal, it would work as a nightgown.

Should he try to talk to her? He wanted to get caught up so badly… but she was probably scared of him. He would be scared in the same situation. And it was nearly midnight—little girls should be asleep by nine at the very latest. He should let her sleep.

But Xykon wouldn't let him keep her in his room. As soon as Xykon found out about this, Tiasal would be taken away.

…But Xykon didn't have to find out. That cleric wouldn't say anything to him, for sure. Xykon would butcher him for disobeying his orders so blatantly. And Redcloak didn't have to say anything. It would deny him a chance to get that monster punished, but it would only be a punishment. And Tiasal would be taken away to somewhere where her father couldn't make sure that no one snuck in her room at night.

It left a bad taste in his mouth—with every night that the cleric wasn't hurt, another child was victimized—but it was the only way he could make sure his daughter was safe. With planning, he could do more later than he could do now.

The little girl came back, knocking him out of his reverie. He numbly held out a shirt. "You can sleep in this."

Tiasal nodded, taking it carefully. Redcloak swallowed awkwardly, turning away and taking off his armor. She shamelessly stripped her pants off, seeming completely at ease with being in naught but underwear with him, and took her time pulling on the shirt, no amount of urgency to her movements. That was a good sign. She wasn't afraid of him seeing her without clothes. That meant she hadn't been abused by the cleric, didn't it?

He still wasn't comfortable with letting _her_ see _him_, though.

"Turn around and climb into bed for a second."

She shrugged and did as he said, probably picking up on the reason for it. Redcloak quickly changed into a pair of night pants and pulled on a night shirt, a little leery of sleeping shirtless with his daughter. He kept his cloak on.

He crawled under the covers with her hesitantly, unsure about her comfort level. She was watching him again, calculating but not afraid. He wanted to cuddle up to her and let her fall asleep in the safety of her daddy's arms, but he was still nervous about scaring her.

"Sweet dreams, Tiasal."

He ran a hand through her hair and lightly rested his arm across her waist protectively.

"…Sweet dreams."

She fell asleep quickly. Redcloak had a slightly more difficult time.

The scent of thyme, flowers, and the wind settled around him, wafting from the tiny girl beside him. He rested his face in her hair, savoring the closeness between them.

_"What are you going to do now, my love?"_

He looked to see that an imaginary Vaarsuvius was lying on the other side of Tiasal, her hair spilling on the pillow and blending in with their daughter's, her hand resting on his.

_"You are going to need to save us alone. Tiasal must be protected, and if you escape with her, Xykon will likely throw my soul into the Snarl once he finds it. Or he will do something else cliché and heinous."_

Redcloak concentrated on the imaginary white hand on his, and if he thought about it hard enough, he could almost feel his wife with him. _"I'm not going to leave you, Vaarsuvius."_

_"Red, if it becomes a choice between me and Tiasal, remember that she is our priority. Always." _The figment of his imagination leaned forward and brushed their lips together. He could almost feel her. _"No matter what Xykon does or does not do to me, it is a thousand times worse if Tiasal is harmed. You know that I would say the same even if I were here."_

Redcloak swallowed hard, staying silent.

_"I know that you do not wish to make the decision yet. Just remember who is the most innocent."_ She kissed him again, already fading. _"And no matter what you do, I will always love you." _

She was gone; apparently, his brain decided that he had had enough of his hallucination-induced call to reality. (His mind had an odd way of working.)

His heart ached for Vaarsuvius, so he soothed himself by taking deep breaths of his daughter's scent. He may not have his whole family there, but at least he had Tiasal.

He slept fitfully that night.


	11. Chapter 11

Tiasal woke up trembling, her skin clammy, and the sun hadn't even rose yet. Her muscles clenched up uncomfortably and she bit her lip, but she was confused by the heat she was against. Had she fallen asleep near the fire?

Then she remembered.

She slipped out from her father's warm arms, the feel of the cold air hitting her skin burning her. Her teeth chattered and she wanted to wake the goblin up to cry, but she knew the cure. She had it.

She stepped on the floor, whimpering at the cold.

_"Tell your father. He'll help you."_

The voice sounded so much like Right-Eye's, but it wasn't. She'd banished him. She never wanted to see him again.

She staggered to her pants on the floor, kneeling and fiddling with the pocket, hands shaking violently. She pulled out the needle she had stolen from the cabinet last night, and for lack of a band, she tied her pants leg tight around her bicep until the veins popped again.

She stabbed herself, but she missed, and she had to draw back again, trying to calm the trembles in her hand in vain.

She got the vein the second time.

Tiasal released the liquid, taking a deep breath, and took the needle out, glancing to the sleeping goblin nervously before shoving the needle under the armoire. It took a minute, but the trembles and horrible sensations disappeared, replaced by a mild fuzziness in her brain that made her feel a little like she was on a cloud.

She looked up at the window. It was still dark, not even a light blush of dawn giving away the time.

The goblin stirred sleepily. "Why are you awake?"

His words were slurred and only half-conscious, but Tiasal still flinched as though she were caught being bad.

"…" She shuffled towards the bed, her ears back, and the goblin pushed himself up a little, blinking slowly.

"It's too early for you to be up." He gestured her over. "I swear, you sleep more fitfully than your mother…"

Her ears perked and she crept forward, hiding her bleeding arm from him and crawling back on the bed.

"But I guess I shouldn't complain. That's how we fell in love, you know."

She stared at him, ears swiveling to hear him better, and the slightest smile crossed his face before he ran his hand through her hair.

"You look so much like her." He slipped his arms around her, hugging her close. It felt nice. He was warm, like her aunt and uncle when she crawled in bed with them. His voice was a little distorted by sleep, but that was okay. It was still there.

Tiasal took a breath. He smelled like old books and rosemary.

Her throat closed up.

She remembered that smell. Not consciously, but some part of her in the back of her head recognized it.

She blinked fast, taking another deep breath, and snuggled a little closer.

_"He hates you. You know he does. He'll betray you just like his brother."_

"I'll tell you more about your mother in the morning." He ran his hand through her hair again. "I think that you should know more about her. Us. The Order never knew the full story."

Tiasal nodded, snuggling close, and waited until she fell asleep.

* * *

It was early. Even earlier than the servant children got up.

But Tiasal didn't mind. She was an early bird, at any rate.

"Here, I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you more about your mother if you tell me more about yourself. That'll require a little speech on your part, by the way."

Tiasal swung her legs over the edge of her bed, nodding eagerly. She didn't like talking, but she'd make an exception if it meant she'd be finding out more about her parents. "Don't sugarcoat."

It hurt her throat to say it (wow, her voice was out of practice), but it got the point across. Redcloak looked down at her, arching an eyebrow before clasping his cloak at his neck. "Alright. I don't think your mother would approve of it anyway."

He smiled nostalgically, his eye getting distant for a moment. "She was an amazing woman."

Tiasal nodded, scooching so she was even closer to the edge of the bed. Her father sat beside her, leaning against the headboard and playing with her hair gently. She leaned into the touch. She liked it when people stroked her hair.

"She was arrogant and full of herself to be sure, but she was probably the strongest person I've ever met. I guess she had to be—she had a lot to handle." His claws gently scraped against her scalp, giving her goosebumps. She let out an involuntary rumbling purr from her throat, and her father let out a matching sound from his chest. It sent vibrations through his body. She sidled up a little closer so she could feel them. "I'm sorry to say that it wasn't exactly a romantic beginning."

Tiasal shrugged, her expression putting across her feelings pretty well: _I didn't think it was._

"She was actually my prisoner." He shifted, averting his eye a little, and hesitated. "…I don't have a right to try to make you think well of me at this point. I'm going to let you judge for yourself, okay?"

Her expression was illegible, so he hoped that was a good sign.

"She wasn't in the best shape. Xykon had given her a nasty beating before I convinced him to keep her for any information she might have, so she wouldn't be able to…" he shifted, sighing softly, "she wouldn't be able to handle the interrogation methods I usually used."

Tiasal cocked her head, her eyes straying to his hands and the long claws at the tips.

He let out a small chuckle. "But I bet she could have. I've never met anyone so perfectly stubborn in my life. I had to keep reminding myself who was in power there. I had to stay in the room if I wanted her to trance at all." His fingers weaved through the purple strands lovingly, but his eye was lost in memory. "Even with all the things she had suffered and the overwhelming circumstances she was facing, she was still so strong and fierce. I swear, it was like I was next to fire when I was with her. She was a force of nature."

He sounded so reverent. It didn't make sense. If what Xykon said was true, then why was he so star struck by her mother? She was an elf.

_"He's trying to trick you. He doesn't love you or her and you know it."_

A gentle laugh broke into her thoughts. "I was lovesick and I've stayed that way ever since, as you're probably noticing. I was head over heels a long time before she let herself reciprocate the feeling. But it was worth it in the end." He brought her a little closer and affectionately intertwined his fingers in her hair. "Your turn."

"Not much to talk about." Tiasal swallowed, her voice scratching her throat painfully.

"That's okay. Vaarsuvius told me that she had children from her last marriage. Do they treat you well?"

She rolled her shoulders, thinking about it for a moment. "…They love me. And they resent me. But they're good brothers." She cleared her throat again, the scratchiness getting to her. How did people deal with this all the time? "They taught me how to swim."

He nodded, smiling, and ran his hand through her hair. "So you live near water?"

"In a field against a mountain. There's a forest outside it. I swim in the lakes." She rolled her shoulders again, not sure if she should be comfortable with him so close to her.

"It's isolated?"

"They didn't let me past the forest. They never explained why."

His smile faded and he squeezed her shoulder gently. "It's because of my blood. Life's not easy for goblins, and even less so for hybrids." He glanced at the window, gauging the time, before he stood up. "I'm sorry about that. I loved your mother desperately, but I never imagined having a child with her. It was a vicious world for me and my family—it will only be worse for you. You're caught in two worlds and neither will recognize you as theirs."

She was quiet, her eyes impossible to read and her ears devoid of the usual twitches.

"I promise that I'll help you, though. No matter what happens, you're mine." His hand went to her back, and she knew that he wanted to say more, but he drew away. "You should go do your chores. I don't want you to be alone with that man, and if he tries to get you separated from the others, tell me. No matter what I'm doing, if you feel like you're in trouble, just come running."

She looked up at him and nodded, eyes still guarded and veiled.

"And you don't need to go back there tonight. Just come to my room." Redcloak turned away, straightening his armor so it wasn't pressing uncomfortably against his lungs. "I don't think that Xykon needs to know about this arrangement."

Tiasal shook her head, shuffling off the bed and giving him a long, calculating look. It wasn't like Vaarsuvius's cold, haughty glares. It was like quicksilver—slipping into every crevice, taking out all your ideas, and quickly destroying anything left.

When he started getting unsettled, she dipped her head in thanks and scampered out of the room.

* * *

"Where were you last night, Clash?"

Tiasal looked up from her scrubbing at the big-bellied Snow. Her platinum blond braids rested on her swollen breasts, so close to white that it almost blended with her dress. She wasn't wearing the usual rough brown shirt and pants ensemble—an obvious sign of the cleric's favor.

Tiasal shrugged evasively, looking back down at the floor and scrubbing away the dirt. Leaves crept closer despite Snow's severe mood and started cleaning the hall window they were in front of. It was a nice gesture, but not a needed one. Leaves was terrified of Snow. Tiasal wasn't.

"Master was mad that you were gone."

"Snow, don't…" Leaves murmured softly, not looking at her and only concentrating on the ice and frost that caked the edges of the glass.

Tiasal scowled at the ground, but just continued scrubbing the dirt from the grout.

"It's selfish, you know."

Tiasal looked up, frowning in confusion, and Leaves turned around, squeezing her sponge hard enough so that the ice crystals stabbed in her palms. "Snow, leave her alone."

"When you make him angry, we have to deal with the consequences." Snow rested her hands on her swollen belly, glaring. "He hurts all of us."

Tiasal sat up, putting her scrubbing brush in her lap.

"He doesn't touch you, so why are you making him touch us more?"

Leaves twisted the sponge again, the only pointy ear visible under her hair twitching wildly. "Come on. Please. It's not safe."

Snow's expression was getting blacker. "Let her talk for herself. She doesn't talk." She gently nudged Tiasal's leg with her foot. "Are you mute?"

Tiasal scowled and looked back down at the ground, scrubbing and crawling forward.

"Why do you think you're better than us?" Snow nudged her again, more insistent. "Having a daddy doesn't make you better. Being part goblin definitely doesn't make you better."

The hybrid's ears twitched.

She crawled forward a little more, catching sight of a sliver of white in the gray wall. She leaned down, looking at the white only to see that it was inside a crevice between the rocks. It was a partially decomposed rat.

"You should appreciate it, you know. Having a daddy who protects you from him. Of all the kids here, you probably deserve it the least." She finally kicked Tiasal's leg, provoking a surprised yelp, and Leaves jerked forward, getting between the kids and twisting the sponge so hard it was tearing.

"Snow, stop—"

"Look at what you did to us last night." Snow went on one knee to balance her giant belly and pulled Leaves' pants down so forcefully she stumbled and fell over.

Tiasal got a look at her scratched up, lashed thighs, but there was something wrong between her legs. It was all… red and swollen.

Leaves let out a shriek, scrambling up and pulling her pants on again, tears streaming, and she sprinted down the hall, dropping her sponge and quickly disappearing.

"YOU DID THAT TO US! ALL NIGHT!"

Tiasal didn't really know what she was doing until she did it.

She jumped towards the wall, tearing the rat corpse from the crevice, and with a flash of gold light, she threw it at the human girl.

The undead rat let out a mad squeal, landing on the end of one of her braids and digging its bone claws into the hair, clawing her face.

Snow jerked away, screaming, and grabbed the rat, throwing it against the wall. The impact was hard enough to snap off the edge of its tail bones before it fell to the ground, but it immediately came for her again, squealing.

She stomped on it, breaking the spine in half.

Tiasal tucked her legs under herself and pounced, landing the girl on her back with the hybrid on top, and pressed her hands hard against that big swollen belly she claimed made her in charge. Gold flared from her palms and started burning away the cloth to the skin underneath, the flesh immediately starting to bubble at the intensity of the heat.

Snow let out a wild shriek of pain, nails clawing blindly to get the hybrid off, but Tiasal locked her legs against the human's hips, pressing her boiling hands further into the belly, making blisters form and pop.

_"She needs to be punished."_

The skin started getting black. It was crispy under her palms, starting to flake and peel like well-done roasted chicken skin, cracking with red between the brittle plates. Something was kicking under her hands, hard, desperate, and she couldn't help a small smile at the wretched wails coming from that blasted monstrous—

_"Tiasal, STOP!"_

The intensity of the voice made her jump, reeling, and fall flat on her back, the wind knocked out.

Snow's howling ceased, becoming stifled whimpers as she writhed, trying to not touch the blistered and blackened handprints on her stomach.

Tiasal sat up, staring at the marks on the otherwise completely white skin. The human girl's face was twisted up in pain, but she was staying quiet, curling up and examining the damage, biting her lip to keep the pathetic sounds in her throat silent.

The hybrid stood up, walking to the girl's side and looping one white arm around her shoulders and snugly putting her hand at Snow's waist, helping her stand up despite the weight in her belly.

"Not… Master. Don't take me to Master."

Tiasal shook her head reassuringly, glancing at the dark-faced girl standing over the rat corpse, her arms crossed, a chill coming from her body. For a moment, she thought Snow was looking at her too, but that wasn't possible. The dark-faced girl was one of those things that no one else saw.

Snow hissed softly in pain, straightening out so her own flesh didn't fold on itself and touch the handprints. Tiasal just readjusted the arm around her shoulders and started walking down the hall, looking down at the stone under her skin. It glowed before a blue arrow pointed forward, ready to lead her to who she needed to see.

She resisted the urge to scratch it before looking back up and going in the indicated direction.

The only sounds either of them made were the shuffles of feet and the occasional hiss from Snow. In Tiasal's opinion, she was being very restrained. Most of the children here immediately went to crying or swearing when they got hurt.

The stone started burning in her skin when they began to pass an innocuous wooden door. She stopped, suppressing a hiss and willing the burning away, and pushed the door open, staggering in with Snow.

The kids shrank a little at the intimidating rows of book shelves towering several feet above them, nearly touching the ceiling, and their shoddy leather shoes slid on the stone floor. Redcloak was standing with his blind side facing them, examining one of the many books and flipping it open. "Tsukiko, if you're here to taunt me again, I have work to do and so do you."

Tiasal's ears twitched. "…Father?"

He stiffened, turning his face so he could see the two children. "By the Dark One!"

Redcloak knelt by the kids, putting the book down and examining the handprints on Snow, letting her sit on the floor. "What happened?"

Tiasal stepped away from Snow, rubbing her own arm and keeping her eyes on the ground. "…I got mad."

He looked up at her in shock, eliciting a wince and averted eyes. "_You_ did this?"

She nodded.

"…" Redcloak looked at the wounded girl, resting his hand on her shoulder. "Cure Serious Wounds."

Red magic passed to Snow, making the burns fade and weave in on themselves, healing up completely.

"There we go. Do you want me to check to see if the baby is alright?"

There was a tightness in his voice and the tendons in his neck were tense ropes, but he kept his expression smooth. Tiasal looked up curiously, cocking her head. Baby?

Snow shrugged, looking away. "I don't like being touched."

"I understand." He took his hand away from her shoulder. "But if you start bleeding from between your legs or you think you're going to have premature contractions, come see me or any other cleric you think can help. At your age, it can be dangerous to try to tough that kind of stuff out."

"Okay."

She pressed her hands against the healed skin, then quickly turned around and scampered out.

Tiasal made no movement to follow her. She had a feeling that Redcloak would want to speak with her.

"How long have you been able to do magic?"

Redcloak stood up and closed the door.

Tiasal shrugged evasively, rubbing her hot palms against her shirt.

"Did she hurt you first?"

She shook her head.

"Did you mean to hurt her?"

"…" She nodded.

Her gaze was still on the floor, so she didn't see what he did, but she heard him sigh before he knelt in front of her so they were at eye-level. "Tiasal, I hope you realize the severity of what you did. Do you know why her stomach is so big?"

She shook her head.

"She's pregnant. Probably pushing her third term. You might have caused a miscarriage or premature labor."

She fiddled her fingers together. She didn't quite understand what any of that meant, but she had an idea. Miscarriage was when someone lost the baby, right? And premature meant too early, so premature labor…

"Look at me."

She looked up, making eye-contact. Redcloak leaned forward a little, grasping her arms tightly. "You can't attack someone who can't protect themselves, no matter how angry you get. You especially can't use magic when the other doesn't have so much as a class level. It's dangerous and you'll end up seriously hurting someone."

The dark-faced girl was whispering in her ear.

"You're a hypocrite."

His eyebrows went up in surprise.

"How many people in Azure City couldn't protect themselves?"

There was a tense pause.

His hands dropped from her arms, landing on the ground, palms down. "Did the Order explain that?"

She shook her head, keeping eye contact, something condescending in her gaze. "You don't need to be told things to know them."

"Tiasal, one thing I hope you've learned about life is that all adults are hypocrites. That's because we don't want children to fall into the same traps we have. Don't take my life and think that that's how you can live—I've made too many mistakes to count, paid dearly for them, and I have no intention of advertising that as a good way to do things."

That made her pause and frown in confusion. "…You're admitting you were wrong?"

"It's complicated, but essentially, yes." Redcloak stood up, putting the forgotten book away on the shelf again. "I've made mistakes. I don't want you to make them too."

He glanced towards the door, frowning, before patting her back gently. "I'd like to talk about this later, but right now, I don't want you to get in trouble if we're caught together. Go and do your chores, and try to avoid that cleric as much as possible." He looked back at her face, stern but not frightening. "And I don't want you to be hurting anymore kids. I don't know how much you understand, but they're all already in pain and unless you get attacked first, things can be solved verbally."

She was reminded of Aunt Haley or Aarindarius or her uncles Roy and Durkon with the scolding. Should she be offended that he was chiding her? He had only known her for a few days.

But… she couldn't deny that it felt weirdly good.

He cracked a small smile and nudged her towards the door. "At least, they can be solved verbally if you decide to talk at some point. Maybe you don't know this, but words are surprisingly good at fixing problems if you actually use them."

She cocked her head, giving a tiny tentative smile, and crept out again, the dark nameless girl at her heels.


End file.
